Save Us
by angel-death-dealer
Summary: She's been gone for fourteen months. Kept prisoner by people who should have loved her. But now she's back, and she needs protection, and she's not alone. Tony/Ziva Abby/McGee
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone, here's my new story. It doesn't have a time frame, and doesn't contain any major spoilers for any episodes. As a story it just kind of floats. I don't own anything, unfortunately :(**

**Save Us**

Slowly, she took another step further down the hallway. Her feet padded softly, and she took great care to make sure that her old sneakers didn't scuff against the carpet and make any sounds to give her away. Once this would have been an action that didn't require a second thought. It would have been something she'd have done in an instinctive action to keep herself to safe. Now, it was something she had to concentrate on, something that she remembered, but could no longer recall as a natural defence. Now, it was a part of her that had disappeared long ago. Every inch that she gained towards the door in question seemed like a year in her mind, and when she finally reached the door she stopped, taking a deep breath before closing her palm around the handle. Soundless, she pushed the door open, but only enough for her to look inside. She didn't want to go into the room.

The only sound that reached her ears was the steady sound of his snoring. She let out a silent sigh, relieved that he had finally fallen into unconsciousness. It had not been a powerful drug she had slipped into his dinner, but it would be hard to trace to the source. Of course, later, they would realise that it could have been no one but her, but for now, she only needed enough time to escape. Blame and punishment would come later, but she would be long gone by the time that she was discovered. It wouldn't be hard to realise where she was going or to find her, but it would give her time to get away and establish a safe place to stay. Here was not a safe place. Not for her, not for anyone. It was no longer just herself that she owed safety to, and no longer just herself that she needed to protect.

For a moment, she remained there, frozen to the spot as she watched him; his dark grey hair plastered against his forehead, creating a curtain over his eyes where his head was hung down, and a lining of stubble along his jaw. With the dark stubble that had not yet silvered like his hair, the colouring looked unbalanced; just like his mental state, she mused. This man had ruined her over the course of the past fifteen months. This man had taken the woman she had become and pushed her so far over the edge that she no longer recognised the woman she had become. This man had taken her from her friends, from her family, and back to her home country; and foolishly, she had returned willingly. She had boarded the plane, said a temporary goodbye to her friends in DC and returned to Israel. She had left, promising she would only be gone a few short weeks, just long enough to right the wrongs of the past, long enough to reform her bond with her father. She had arrived in Tel Aviv, unaware that the man she had come to see, her very own father, would keep her against her will.

It had started with terminating her position with NCIS. He had waited for the opportune moment, when she had boarded the plane in DC and would not be there to discover the conversation with the Director which would leave her permanently disbanded from her team at NCIS. He had greeted her at the airport, arriving in person rather than sending a car; a good gesture, in hindsight too attentive for his usual self. He had his housekeepers set up a room for her, take her bag, just the one, upstairs for her, cook a nice meal for her, her favourite, of course. He had everything arranged perfectly, and she had been foolish enough to believe that her father might, for once, be genuinely trying to enjoy his daughter's life. She had foolishly believed this to be a new start for the two of them. Instead, it had been the start of a nightmare.

After dinner, he had announced the termination of her position at NCIS. She'd been angry at first, knowing that this meant she could not return to America for anything less than a vacation. She was even angrier to learn that her father had already secured her an undercover mission, due to begin in a matter of weeks once she had familiarised herself with the case. She had tried to contact any of her friends back at DC, but found herself unable to reach them. Her father had destroyed her cell phone a week later, hoping to remove all trace of their contact numbers, but had not been aware of his daughter's photographic memory. Every time he destroyed the numbers, she copied them down again from memory. Eventually, she stopped copying them down, even in her cell phone. She knew that any time she called, she would be able to piece together the numbers in her mind, so why make a hard copy that would only be destroyed?

But her return to Mossad had been short-lived. Just before her undercover assignment was to begin, she received a life changing piece of news that had given her more hope than fear, at the time. A piece of news that had resulted in her contract with Mossad being immediately terminated. Unfortunately, there was no choice for her, being an unmarried woman, other than to throw herself at the mercy of her father. She had insisted, initially, that she could do this alone, and had made all arrangements to do so, but her father had shot down any hopes of her returning to Washington, and she had been confined unwillingly to her room in her father's home. As she became less and less capable of keeping up with her usual ritual of trying to break out of her room with as much physical force as possible, she resigned herself to the fact that she would not be leaving Tel Aviv any time soon.

So she stopped fighting. She allowed her father to believe she had become submissive. She stopped attacking the guards when they escorted the housekeepers up to bringing her food. She stopped denying herself the medical care that was sparingly offered to her. She stopped everything save staring out of her now-barred window and planning ahead to the day when she would be in a better position to leave for good.

That time was now.

She closed the door behind her again as she turned, just as silently as she had come in the first place. Retreating away from the study, she went into the living room, biting her lip when she passed the unconscious bodies of the housekeeping staff and guards. The sleeping drugs had worked well, but she still didn't know for certain how much time it would give her once she reached Washington. When she reached the living room, she found herself recoiling at the sight before her.

Chairs were knocked over, photograph frames were smashed. It was chaos from top to bottom, with broken glass littering the red rug that was starting to brown with age and dirt combined. Parts of it were a darker shade where drinks had been spilled and still needed to be cleaned off. One of the curtain rails was hanging down at one end, and the curtain that it held was torn off, trampled into the carpet underneath. One window had a crack in the pane where something had been forced against it. It might have been her head, wasn't sure. A lot had happened that evening, and all that she could remember was knowing how much she needed to get away from this place and the screams of her former self in the back of her mind, begging her to fight back and do the right thing. But her training, instilled in her mind since she was too young to be classed as a woman, yet too old to be a girl, had been shattered away in the past months, and as hope had deserted her, so too had her strength. How could she be able to fight back against her father, one of the most powerful men she knew, when she no longer had the strength to look into her own eyes in a mirror?

Two of the housekeeping staff were collapsed by the broken window; apparently only just starting on the clearing up when the drug had begun to take affect on their bodies and minds. In the time that it had taken to do so, Ziva had packed up what little belongings she needed, very few her own, and had made sure everyone in the house was unconscious before gathering up her infant son and beginning her escape.

The child in question, a young boy, six months and three days old, was lying on the couch, a peaceful innocence glazing his sleeping face. His dark hair had, at birth, been identical to her own, but given time it had become more of his father's brown shade. What she knew to be chocolate brown eyes beneath his closed lids were all that had given her hope over the past six months. At the boys feet on the couch was a single bag, filled only with the possessions that they needed between them; entertainment enough for the boy, clothes enough for the boy. She would be able to eat and get clothes in DC with the money she had stolen from her father's study earlier that day when he was at Mossad headquarters. He hadn't noticed it missing, and if he had, he had not accused her of taking it.

Returning home on the pretence of rebuilding the burnt bridges with her father had been a mistake, she had known that for a long time now. But she had the chance to change that now, and if she did not walk out the door and get on the plane right now, she might not ever get the chance again. She might not even survive much longer than when the first of her father's guards woke up and discovered what had taken place. So she lifted the sleeping child into her arms, careful not to wake him, and looked back around the room. She had been a child in this room, the broken photographs on the floor proving that. The photograph closest to her held an old photograph, slightly blurred with age but the memory still burned in her mind; a summer image of her with her half-brother and younger sister, the three of them entwined in an embrace filled with child-like adoration for one another. Both of them were gone now, and she had left her own memories of them, her own photographs and memoirs, in her apartment of Washington. She didn't know what had become of her apartment, let alone her belongings, so she awkwardly reached to the ground and took the photograph, folding it into her pocket, just in case all of her memories no longer awaited her in DC.

Without looking back, she left the house. She went to the airport, got on the first plane to DC, and left behind her home country for the one place that could provide her sanctuary, and the one place that could help her regain her former self. She didn't stop and stare into empty rooms. She didn't stop and gather anything from the market that she passed. She didn't stop when her son awoke as they walked through Customs, she just soothed him as she walked. She didn't have any second thoughts. She just left.

Many hours later, jet-lagged and exhausted, she stepped out of the cab. Her son woke long enough to be more co-operative with her struggling both herself, her son, and their bag out of the cab, but he then returned his face to her neck and went back to sleep. She was pleased that he was sleeping. If he slept for a few more hours he would not feel the jet-lag like she would. She waited for a moment, until the cab had driven off and she had felt the baby-soft breath on her neck, signalling her son's slumber, before she entered the building before her.

And after that, after all the travelling, all the running, and after fifteen months of heartache and neglect, she found herself home. She didn't take time to look around her, she just marched straight over to where she knew she belonged. She stood in the centre of her old squad room, looking around her at the empty desks. She knew that the team were probably out on a case. She was about to approach her old desk and sit down, surprised when she found someone else's belongings scattered all over it. She looked at it for a moment, remembering what it had been like to have Agent Lee on the team. Michelle had taken her place. Michelle had taken her desk.

"Who's-?"

"Is that-?"

She turned at the voice she recognised. Her old team, her friends, were leaving MTAC. Gibbs was only just coming out of the door, but McGee, Lee and Tony were already halfway down the stairs, just staring. She locked eyes with Tony, fifteen months worth of emotion gathering in her eyes as she stared at him helplessly. She suddenly realised how terrible she appeared, sleep deprived, hope deprived, having not showered in days. She was a wreck, both physically and emotionally, but he still saw her before him and his eyes still lit up like Christmas morning - from the decorations around the office, she guessed that morning was not far off. He raced down the stairs, calling out her name as he did so, running into the bullpen and standing before her. He stopped, placing one hand on her shoulder and the other on her upper arm, as the other shoulder was occupied by her sleeping son's head.

"Ziva," he whispered, unable to take his eyes from her, his eyes reflecting her relief for her being her. "You're here,"

"Tony," she replied, ashamed that her voice came out as a pained whimper, and that shame coupled with her experiences sent the welling tears into her eyes. "Tony, I…" but she couldn't say it. She couldn't say what she had come all this way to say. She shook her head.

"You're here," he repeated. "You're home."

And then it gushed out of her mouth, before she could stop herself or find a way to sound less vulnerable. She pressed her face into her son's hair, relishing in his innocence for a moment before returning her gaze to Tony's, just at the second when Gibbs, McGee and Michelle entered the squad room and crowded around her.

"Save us."

**Hope you like this! It was originally going to be part of My Girl, but that story went down a different path instead so I decided to make this into a seperate story. Please let me know what you think, any comments are appreciated :D**

**Sam**

**x**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

She hadn't really been expecting DC to be so sunny. She'd rather hoped that it would have been in the middle of a downpour after the harsh sunshine she'd walked to the airport during in Tel Aviv. Of course, DC had its share of beautifully warm days, but after watching so much sunshine through barred windows, she'd been looking forward to some rain. She had vivid memories of tugging her jacket closer to her, shuddering as they worked through the night. Some days, those memories seemed much further in the distance than they really were. But still, the sunshine here was different to the sunshine in Israel; it wasn't as stifling, and there was always the chance of an unexpected thunderstorm. She'd have love to have stood out at the large window, watching the city that had become a home to her now that she returned, but with her friends crowded around her and her son cradled against her chest, she had more important things to be sorting out.

After her barely audible 'save us' to Tony, she had pressed her head against his shoulder, leaning forwards without stepping towards him so that she didn't crush her son between them. The eyes that had first lit up at the sight of her in the squad room again darkened as he placed his arms around her properly. Feeling his arms around her again felt like home. It felt like all her hardships had been worth it, because here she was home, and here she was safe. She could feel the gentleness in his embrace, as he too recognised the presence of a child between them, and she was glad. Although Tony was not the most careful of men that she knew, he knew when he had to cautious and thankfully, he knew that he could give her comfort without crushing her like one of Abby's hugs would have. Yes, the feel of his arms around her again, his hands on her back, combined with the soft baby breath of her son against her neck, was enough to ensure her that the steps she had taken to ensure her arrival here were worth it.

"Ziva?"

She heard him say her name several times before, but it was only when she finally felt strength return to her that she unwillingly raised her head from his shoulder, looking up at him. She wasn't sure how long she had been there now, but Ducky was also in the squad room. Michelle had disappeared, as had McGee, although she suspected he was probably already in Abby's lab telling her of her return. Gibbs was at his desk, on the phone, but he hung up when he saw that she was more aware of herself again and walked towards them. She had Tony standing before her now, and Gibbs and Ducky on either side of her, three pairs of hands on her back and shoulders.

"What happened? Where have you been?" Tony asked her softly, keeping his hold on her as if he were afraid she'd get scared and run.

She opened her mouth to speak, but found that no words could come out. How cold she explain what had happened? That her own father had imprisoned her against her will because of her child? How could she even begin to explain the child?

"Never mind that," Ducky told Tony, observing Ziva closely. "My dear, you are pale and trembling. We must get you down to autopsy so that I take look over you."

She shook her head, moving to replace her head on to Tony's shoulder, anything to avoid talking, just for the moment, but he tried to pull her back. She was a little more forceful, however, and returned herself into his arms; an action that caused all three men to be taken aback slightly. She mumbled something incoherently against him. Tony leaned down, placing his lips by her ear.

"Ziva, you've gotta let Ducky take a look at you," he told her. She shook her head again. "Then at least let him look over the baby," he tried to convince her. "Just in case."

At this, when it was her son's welfare being considered, she agreed. In his short life of six months and four days, she had been the only one to truly consider his welfare. Her father had given her many orders, insisting that they were for the good of his grandson, but she knew better. She knew that the things he did were for his own selfish needs and desires. She knew that the only one in Tel Aviv who truly cared for the innocent child was herself. It was one of the more prominent reasons why she needed to escape. She needed to take her son to a place where she had friends, where her true family was, where there were people who he could grow up around, people who would love him and encourage him to be nothing more than a child. She refused to have her son groomed for Mossad use from the young age that she and her siblings had been. She nodded, placing a hand on the back of her son's head as she withdrew from Tony's arms. "Okay."

----

On the way down to autopsy, in the elevator, the baby began to stir. Ziva whispered to him in Hebrew, paying no attention to the looks that Tony gave to him. She knew that she had changed, in his eyes as well as her own, and that he was probably shocked to see her acting this way. She had changed too much, not all for the better. She wasn't herself anymore, definitely not the Ziva that had left DC fifteen months ago. She was barely a capable agent of any agency anymore. She was simply a mother; a scared mother who had escaped from her home for a better life for her child. When she had agreed to let Ducky look over the baby, she had allowed Tony to take her bag from her, and he had thrown it over his shoulder so that she could devote all her remaining strength to her child. She hadn't fought off the hand he had placed on the small of her back, steering her into the elevator, and she had felt him tense up momentarily when she leaned against him, but he had soon relaxed and moved his hand reassuringly up and down her back.

Once they were in the familiar autopsy room, Ziva stood awkwardly. She focused all her attention on the baby for a moment, making sure that he awoke peacefully rather than with disgruntled cries. Ducky lead them over to a table, and Tony nudged her gently to refocus her on where she was moving. She jumped at his touch, which made him frown, but then went over to the table. "Sit down, my dear," Ducky told her.

She sat up on the table, but Gibbs stepped forward. "Actually, Ziva, can I have a word while Ducky checks him over?" She looked hesitantly at her son, even though Gibbs seemed to be asking in his nicest voice. "We're not going far, we're staying in the room. He'll be safe here."

After another moment, she kissed her son's forehead, smoothing his small amount of hair before standing up again. He was safe with these people, she knew that. She had never had to hand him over into the care of someone else before, and it made her nervous. She passed him over to Ducky, however, but the boy instantly became distressed, and Ziva moved quickly to try and settle him in Ducky's arms. When that didn't work, she took him back into her own arms.

"Perhaps Anthony could hold him instead," Ducky suggested. "I cannot hold him and examine him at the same time, after all."

Tony looked at the baby in Ziva's arms for a moment, and then at Ziva's pleading eyes. Even though she didn't want to be parted from him, she wanted to be sure that the baby was in good health. "Sure," he said simply. There was an awkward moment of arm arrangement, but eventually he had the boy curled in his arms. Ziva leaned over him for a moment, whispering soft words to him which he couldn't hear, but when she stepped back and allowed her fingers to leave the boy's cheek, he was still as calm and settled as he had been in her own arms. She remained there for a moment, watching the ease with which Tony held the boy, but then felt Gibbs' arm around her shoulders, gently leading her away.

"Sit down," he invited, when they were over at Ducky's desk. She sat down on the seat, and he took up a spot on the edge of the desk. "What happened?"

She tore her eyes away from her son to look up at him. "He would not let me leave," she shook her head, staring down at the ground now. "I tried, but I could not get away. I tried and I _tried_ but I was carrying a child, and I could not…and after he was born, he kept threatening…and I could not let him…"

"It's okay," Gibbs said softly, making her realise just how distressed she had become. Her son was only twenty feet away from her, but she had never been that far away from him due to their confinement. "Who wouldn't let you leave?" he asked her, after she had calmed down again.

She was silent, and then begun on a more panicked explanation again. "I _tried_, Gibbs, I really did try-"

"I know," he interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We tried to track you down when you didn't come back as soon as you said you would, but your father wasn't co-operative. He said you were out on missions." At the mention of her father, she winced, and looked away from him again. "Was it your father, Ziva? Did he do this to you?"

She bowed her head further. "He terminated my position here at NCIS once he knew I was out of the country. He let me believe I was still visiting for a vacation until that night when we ate together. I tried to contact everyone, but I could not reach you. He would block my outgoing calls. Then he arranged for me to go on an undercover mission, but I found out I was pregnant, and was not allowed to take the mission."

"So he kept you in Israel?"

She nodded. "I was unmarried. I had no choice but to resign myself to my father's aid."

"The child's father?" Gibbs asked.

She sighed, running her hands through her dirty hair. "I wanted to return, but he would not let me."

"Is his father in DC?" he asked.

Ziva looked across the room, seeking out her son. He already looked happier in his new environment. Of course, he had known no better than the life he had been born into, and rarely took any notice of it. He had smiled at his mother, cried when he was sick, explored the world as it was around him. He had never received any attention other than what his mother showered upon him, so he was thrilled to watch the amusing faces that Tony was pulling to distract him from Ducky's examination. He squealed with laughter when he managed to grab any part of Ducky's white lab coat that came close enough to his hands. The glasses, too, looked like an nice shiny toy for him to play with, but he hadn't been able to reach them as of yet. He was smiling, laughing, with the same beautiful smile that had dragged her through each day.

She nodded in reply to Gibbs' question. "Yes, he is here."

Gibbs just nodded, and left the matter at that. The paternity of her child wasn't important right now; what was important was that the past fifteen months had gone horribly wrong, and they needed fixing. If her father was the one responsible for her becoming a mere shadow of herself, then Gibbs wanted to kill him for it. This wasn't Ziva. No woman as strong as her should be forced to recoil herself this much. There was no telling how she might be if she hadn't had her child to motivate her into leaving. Would she have even survived this long?

Ducky looked over and called to them. "There are no problems here, you will be pleased to know," he assured her. "He is a perfectly healthy child." There was a squeal of delight when Ducky's glasses suddenly vanished from sight and appeared in the child's hand, where he proceeded to wave them dangerously close to Tony's face. "And a curious one, at that," he added.

There was a sigh of relief that worked through her entire body, relaxing more than half her muscles. Of course, this didn't escape Gibbs' notice. "When was the last time a doctor looked at either of you, Ziva?" he asked her.

"The morning he was born," she confirmed. "If he was ever sick, my father would claim it was a way of strengthening him." Her head dropped and she rested it on her palm wearily. "And he would cry all through the night and I could do nothing to soothe him…"

"You want us to take him to Bethesda, just to be sure?" he offered.

She shook her head. "No, I trust Ducky," she answered immediately.

At that, she stood up, going over to where the others were. Now that the examination was over, Tony was more than happy to keep on amusing the child. He was lifting him above his head so that the boy would squeal with delight, and for once, Ziva didn't feel the rush of panic sweep over her at somebody being near her child, let alone holding him. Once, she had seen her father leaning over the boy's crib, and her heart had leapt into her throat and she had rushed to pick him up, but now Tony was lifting him into the air and she wasn't worried at all.

In return, Tony grinned at the innocent laughter. "You're a happy little guy, aren't you?" he cooed.

Ziva stood near them for a moment, not interrupting because the smile on her son's face was something she felt he deserved. He'd basically been treated like a zoo animal in his short life; locked up in a room with his mother, only visited by his grandfather once every few days, brought food and water by strangers only for him to survive. Ziva had no choice but to breastfeed the child, knowing that otherwise he would have starved. She knew that she could not do that forever, but she could still do so now, although she would have liked to have started him on soft foods at this point. She didn't have access to them in Tel Aviv because they were not brought to her, but in DC she would be able to. Now, she wanted him to be normal, and that would start with him having attention showered on him from all who cared for him.

"You are, aren't you?" Tony continued, as the boy laughed even more. "Oh no, you don't, the hair's Tony Territory, buddy," he laughed nervously, as the boy made a curious grab for a handful of his precious hair. Ziva smiled, perhaps for the first time in months. She could remember smiling at her son, and only her son, while in Israel. Nothing else there had given her reason to smile. Only her son and his toothless smiles, which had become gapped smiles since he had started teething not long ago. He still had new teeth growing each day, which made him grizzle through some nights, but the smiles were worth the tears, she'd tell herself.

Seeing Tony with a child wasn't something she had prepared herself for, especially not with her child. She had seen him with young children at crime scenes before, but never with a baby. The younger ones would be drawn to him and the way he would use his immature side to make them smile, no matter what horrors they had seen. It was a gift, she'd later realised, that he could make those children smile. She hadn't expected him to be so hands on when he barely knew the child. Yet, here he was, lifting her child so that he laughed happily, pulling faces and talking in the baby talk that she'd once found ridiculous, but she now found to be her foremost language. Perhaps it was because they were partners, and because of that he assumed himself to be Uncle Tony to the boy.

After a while of her standing there, Tony stopped, holding the little boy out before him and tilting his head in his own examination of the child. In return, the baby tilted his head to return Tony's gaze. "_Uh oh_," Tony laughed. "Your momma looks at me like that sometimes. Yes, she does. You look a lot like your momma, don't you?" The baby simply stared back at him, before reaching out and prodding Tony's nose. "You're grabby, aren't you, kid??" Tony frowned again. "But your name isn't 'kid' is it? No, I don't think so. I bet you've got a cool name, haven't you? I bet your momma gave you a nice name, didn't she?"

Taking this as a cue, she stepped up to his side so that their shoulders were touching. "Shai," she told him quietly. "His name is Shai Chayim David. My father would not allow me to give him his father's surname."

Rather than questioning what the father's surname was, Tony looked at the baby still. "_Shai_," he repeated, testing out the name. "Yeah, Shai's a cool name."

"It means 'gift'," she explained, her voice distant as she placed a hand on the back of her son's head. "For he was my gift."

"I take it Chayim has a pretty relevant meaning, too?" Tony assumed.

She nodded. "Life," she translated.

"A gift of life," he said, turning his head back to the baby. He scrunched up his face, causing the baby to laugh again. "You are a gift, aren't you?" Tony cooed to him. "Yeah, you are. You wait 'til your Auntie Abby gets to meet you, 'cause you'll be her favourite Christmas present ever, I think."

"Christmas?" she repeated with a frown.

"Christmas eve," he revealed. "I know you don't really celebrate it, but…for what it's worth, I think I speak for all of us when I say that you being back is the best Christmas present we could ask for."

She smiled gently at him, and rested her head on his shoulder. Gibbs came back over to them, having been speaking to one side with Ducky. "Ziva, your apartment's still available with all your belongings, but I don't want you to go back there just yet."

She shook her head, agreeing with him as she straightened up. "He will know that I am gone by now, and he will know that I have come here. My apartment will be the first place he will look."

"He?" Tony questioned.

"My father," she revealed.

If he hadn't been holding the baby, he probably would have clenched his fists. Instead, he frowned, looking in between his boss and Ziva. "Your father did all this? Keeping you hidden?"

She nodded, offering him no further explanation, and Gibbs turned to his senior agent. "Tony, take Ziva and the baby-"

"Shai," he interrupted. Gibbs just stared at him, and Tony looked guilty for a moment before shrugging. "His name's Shai, Ziva just told me."

Gibbs stared for a moment, and then continued. "Take Ziva and Shai to your apartment. Ziva, do you have things for the baby?"

She indicated the bag on the ground. "Everything we owned is in that bag," she admitted. It was a sad truth, but there was not much in that room they had been kept in that they could have called their own other than the clothes they wore.

"Okay," Gibbs nodded. "I want you to go with Tony and stay with him. I'll deal with your father."

"Do not-" she strangled out as he turned. He looked back at her, seeing a sudden fear and distress in her eyes. It wasn't a look any of them were used to seeing on Ziva. "Do not make me return," she pleaded. "_Please_, I cannot take my son back there."

"You're not going anywhere except to Tony's apartment," he assured her. "Go now, I'll call you when I have something."

-------

Gibbs didn't leave Vance's office for another two hours, and when he did, he went straight into MTAC. His voice felt hoarse from arguing, but it wasn't going to stop him arguing some more. He didn't cast a glance down to the bullpen as he went, knowing that he had McGee and Abby in the lab, working hard on figuring out how the Director of Mossad had managed to make Ziva disappear of the face of the planet for fifteen months, and he knew that Ziva and her baby were safe with Tony at his apartment. He knew that they were safe because Tony hadn't called him yet with a 'yeah, listen…uh….I lost them'. He knew that the old Ziva was capable of taking care of herself, but this new Ziva was different. He wasn't blind to the way she had clung to Tony, or the way she had struggled to be twenty feet away from her son, and she hadn't raised her guard once. She had been dependant on them, coming to them for the protection she'd once have insisted she could prove herself.

It was the main reason he had sent Tony with them. She had been at ease with Tony and the child had been content in his presence. For the moment, he was going to ignore the idea of his agents playing happy families because it was necessary. If he kept Tony around the headquarters, he'd be demanding answers just as much as Gibbs, only Tony would be more likely to turn his frustration and anger into a more destructive outlet, one that might end up with Ziva's father jumping onto the first place to DC and dragging his daughter and grandchild back to Israel after killing Tony.

And that was something he couldn't allow to happen.


	3. Chapter 3

**First of all, I****'****d like to thank everyone for their reviews. I really wasn****'****t expecting such a response with this story, especially as My Girl is still going on, and I ended up with 38 reviews for the first chapter alone. I really am stunned. Thank you so much. I****'****ve been having a hard time (hence so much writing time) and your reviews really do bring a smile to my face every time I check my email. Really, thank you so, so much. **

**I should also point out that this story won****'****t be nearly as long as My Girl. I have actually come up with a plot for this one (well, a beginning and an end, at least) so it may be open to a sequel, based on the response for this one. Because of the good response for the first two chapters, I have to say I****'****m now really nervous about posting the rest up in case it doesn****'****t meet expectations! **

**Really, though, thank you so much. Please continue to review, because it would brighten my day so much and more reviews mean faster updates (especially seeing as I****'****ve got seven chapters written ahead!)**

**Sam**

**x**

Chapter Three:

Tony had no child seat in the car, so he had made sure he drove carefully as Ziva held the baby to her chest. He was no longer sleeping, but simply relaxing back against her chest, playing with a small stuffed animal that she had taken from her bag. It was a small dog that was already brown, but looked discoloured, although it wasn't clear whether that was from Shai's ritualistic chewing of the dog's ear, or whether it was more the fact that it hadn't seen cleaning products since it had first been handed to him. The drive to Tony's apartment wasn't long, but it seemed hours longer than usual because of the silence, only broken by the occasional Hebrew mumblings that Ziva directed to her child. When they got to his place, he got out first. Ziva hadn't moved, staring out of the windscreen at the road ahead of her and not noticing that it hadn't moved. She continued to stare ahead until Tony opened the door on her side, causing her to snap out of her troubled mind and look up at him.

"We're here," he said simply. She nodded, unplugging the safety belt and reaching down to grab her bag. "It's okay, I got it," Tony told her, taking the bag before she could argue and looking confused when she didn't.

She moved the baby to her hip, making sure that the plush dog was still in his grasp and not on the bottom of Tony's car, and followed Tony up to his apartment. It went back to being silent, because neither knew what to say to fill the gap of the past fifteen months. Two hours ago, Tony hadn't even known if she was alive, let alone where she was, and now she was here, with a baby, helplessly begging for their protection. He didn't know what, exactly, had happened to her back in Israel, but he knew that it had affected her enough for her usually instinctive reflexes to abandon her. It was why the silence was so thick; Tony barely spoke when something was bothering him, and Ziva rarely let anyone know what was really going on inside her head regardless of the situation, so the combination of their usual stubbornness drowned them in the elevator.

She'd hesitated in his doorway, watching him unlock the door with his keys. She frowned, watching the movements of his hands. A long time ago, the investigator and Mossad assassin side of her would have wanted to check it over for signs of forced entry, just in case her father was a step closer to her than she assumed and had already figured out who and where she had run to, even the tiniest giveaway that she wasn't as safe as they assured her. The likelihood was that he would come in person to find her, rather than trust any of his men. Still, the Mossad knew better. Her father wouldn't have left any signs behind when leaving a scene, unlike the unconscious bodies of half-poisoned staff that she had left at her father's home when she fled. Tony unlocked the door, opening it and entering himself first, with his weapon in his hand. He must have had the same fears as she did, because he told her to remain by the door until he had checked the entire apartment. When he came back, closing the door behind her, his weapon was away, ensuring her that there was no threat to her child here.

It was only once the door close behind them that either of them really found their voices, coincidentally at the same time.

"Ziva-"

"I am sorry."

He looked at her, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the hook by the door. He made to offer hers, but she was simply wearing a zip-up sweatshirt over her t-shirt, and with it being near the end of December, she was probably already cold enough. "You don't have anything to be sorry for," he told her.

"I do," she nodded. "I said I would call." He stopped where he was, looking down at her rather than beckoning her into the living room as he had planned. "You told me to call you so you were sure the plane had landed safely, and to tell you whether or not I would need a lift home from the airport when I arrived back."

He flashbacked to the memory of them saying goodbye at the airport. Yes, he had made her promise to call him the second the plane had landed so that he knew she was okay. He did it when she was driving home usually on a rainy night, too, just to make sure that her crazy driving hadn't gotten her or anyone else killed. She hadn't called him when the plane had landed, obviously. "It's okay," he assured her with a smile. "I had McGee check the flight details when you didn't call, so I knew you'd landed okay, at least. I just figured you were pleased to see your father and you just forgot."

"I was," she confirmed. "At first."

His gentle smile dripped. "What did he do to you, Ziva?" he asked, stepping closer to her.

She shook her head. "He would say things…and he would…he would not let return," she told him. "He terminated my position with NCIS while I was in flight. Then he signed me up for an undercover mission which I was unable to take."

"Because of the baby?" he assumed.

"Yes," she confirmed. "It was a long term mission, and my pregnancy would have compromised my cover, if I had lived that long."

His eyes darkened at that thought, but he didn't ask any more questions when some innocent gurgles from Shai interrupted them. He sounded like he was trying to talk, to join in the grown ups conversation that was happening around him. Ziva kissed his forehead, paying close attention to her son's eyes as he explored their new surroundings. When he felt the lips on his head, he smiled, rubbing his face against her cheek, causing Ziva to smile gently in return. "How old is he?" Tony asked, watching the soft interaction.

"Six months and four days," she recited instantly.

"Accurate," he observed.

"I had little else to do than to watch him grow," she told him, still not taking her eyes off her son.

Tony nodded, still watching them both. She had been gone for fifteen months. Her son was six months old. Six months of life…nine months of pregnancy…no, stop. He shook himself. Ziva had been through enough without him bombarding her with his questions. He burrowed all questions to the back of his mind, and put a hand on her back, leading her down the hall. "Come on," he told her, "I don't have a spare room, but you guys can sleep in my room for as long as you need to," he offered.

He waited for her to insist otherwise; for her to tell him that the offer was kind but she would feel better in her own apartment, as it was still available to her, but she didn't. She just nodded and muttered a "thank you" in a small voice. Inside his bedroom, he placed their bag down on the floor, beside the dresser where he kept his own belongings. Ziva stood near the bed, looking around her.

"Are you hungry?" he offered. "I've got food, but we can order something in if you want. I know it's early, but you look half starved." Her look at him told him that she probably was. "What about Shai?"

"I am still breast feeding," she told him. "I was not given the chance to try him on more solid foods yet."

"What about clothes and everything?" he asked. "It's December, and after being in Israel for so long you're going to start feeling the cold soon, especially Shai, and it's gonna be really cold tonight anyway."

"I have some changes of clothes for us both," she said, nodding to the bag. "With blankets, Shai will be fine."

He nodded. "Okay." He wanted her for a moment, taking her in. She was back. She was really back, and standing in his bedroom. She wasn't back in the way he'd expected, but the fact that she was here and alive was enough. She was broken, sure enough, things had happened in Israel that had changed her, shattered her spirit, but they could fix that. They could fix broken, but they couldn't fix dead. Broken was better than dead. After all, she was his partner, who else knew her better than he did? He'd worked with her for four years before she left, that was much longer than he worked with Kate. He couldn't deny that he knew more about Kate's personal life than Ziva's, though. Mind you, Kate's personal details were discovered when he had personally sought them out by any means necessary. He couldn't do that with Ziva. He couldn't go through her PDA or her trash because she never left any trace of personal connections. It was only when Gibbs had retired temporarily and they had grown closer as friends, rather than co-workers, that he had learned the odd detail about her. Sometimes, she'd let it slip, and other times he'd have to bed and plead for some scrap of childhood truth or innocence from her, but the fact that she'd end up telling him made him feel one step closer to her true being every time.

Inside, he knew that there was a young girl, a little girl who'd lost her mother at the age of nine (she's told him that on the anniversary of his mother's death, when he had snapped at her for no reason and she'd understood why), a little girl who had lost her sister unfairly (she'd told him that the second time they had properly met, seeking shelter outside the Embassy hotel in the rain), and the little girl who had realised the hard way that daddy wasn't perfect. She hadn't told him that last one, but he had seen it in her eyes when they were first locked up in the shipping container on the dock, and it was something that had been further backed up by everything she'd revealed so far that day. It didn't matter how much she tried to guard it, she had started letting him into her soul that day, letting him slip past her walls step by step, and he proceeded to walk closer ever since.

She was dressed now in grubby clothes, covered in stains of what could only be baby vomit; her usual combat trousers and a jewel coloured blue top that had faded a little with age. Her hair was longer, all layers and her fringe had grown out into the main bulk of her hair, which was curly, like it used to be, but he remembered she'd been wearing it straight when she left. She looked like a scared child, holding onto her son and not knowing what else to do. He realised then that he didn't know much about her family life in Israel, but he knew that someone who's entire life and career had been about helping people shouldn't have had to go through what she did. She should have had a normal life, a life where standing in a normal bedroom with her son didn't seem strange and unreal to her.

"You wanna take a shower or a bath while I sort us out with some food?" he asked her. In a true un-Ziva fashion, she bit her lip in hesitation, looking down at Shai. "I'll watch Shai." She still didn't look convinced. "You look exhausted, Zi," he told her softly, stepping into her personal space and putting a hand on her back. "It's okay. He's safe with me. So are you. I'm not going to let anything happen to either of you, okay?"

She was silent for a moment, before nodding. She had come to DC because she knew that her son would be safe with her friends. And Tony was right, Shai was safe with him. She knew from watching them together in autopsy earlier that Tony was capable of keeping him amused for a short while, so that she could wash away any holds that the last fifteen months had on her. "Okay," she nodded.

"Okay," he repeated. "I'll leave some warm clothes of mine out for you, to save on laundry," he told her.

She nodded, and then reluctantly passed Shai over to him. He fussed momentarily, but Ziva kissed his forehead. "Hush, my son, you are safe," she assured him. Shai settled at her voice, and sighed as he rested his head on Tony's shoulder, right near the base of his neck. "He is tired," she noted. "If you stroke the back of his neck, like this," she demonstrated, gently trailing the back of her finger along from the base of his neck to his hairline, "he should go to sleep easily." She removed her hand, and Tony picked up the action. "He likes that," she mused. "It relaxes him."

"Figures," he half laughed, the rise and fall of his chest jogging the baby, who grasped a handful of his shirt between his fingers and then settled again.

"What?" she asked, a frown of confusion replacing the nervous look from before.

"I remember that it relaxes you as well," he said.

The look in her eyes told him that the taboo had been broken. Things that he had wanted to talk about when she first arrived back had at first been withheld, because there were more important things at hand. If she had turned up, apologizing because she did some missions for Mossad, he'd have taken her to one side and had this conversation immediately, but instead, she had turned up frightened and unsure, holding a child like she as afraid to let him go, and actually asking him to save them. Things needed sorting out first; like making sure that she was here to stay and that her health, as well as her son's, was in good shape. She just stared at him, and he had to look hard for the gentle tugging of the corners of her lips, a ghost of a smile that there was no real time for. He boldly leaned down, pressing his lips to her forehead and allowing himself a moment to linger when he heard her sigh. She placed a hand on his chest, beside where her son lay, and he pulled his lips back, returning them in for one quick, chaste encounter to her forehead again before guiding her in the direction of the bathroom.

"Take as long as you want," he invited her, pushing open the bathroom door. "There's no girly shampoo or anything, but you can use what you want. Make yourself at home." She nodded numbly, looking at Shai who was getting sleepier and sleepier by the second. "He'll be fine," he assured her, following her gaze. "I promise I won't let him out of my arms, let alone my sight," he said.

This settled her nerves. "If you promise," she whispered.

--------

He'd lingered halfway down the hall when he heard the bathroom door close behind her. He wasn't being perverted, like the old Ziva would probably have accused him of, but rather waiting for the reassuring sound of water running. Then, he set about making her comfortable. He knew that she never showered for longer than fifteen minutes, because it usually fit in with her running schedule before work, but who knew how long she'd want to wash away the troubles she bore on her shoulders? He set out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt on his bed for her and then went into the kitchen, turning on the kettle, blaming his need for coffee on working with Gibbs for too long. His cell phone rang, and he answered it quickly to avoid disturbing the almost asleep baby in his arms.

"DiNozzo," he answered.

"Ah, Anthony, it's only me," Ducky's voice said.

"Hi, Ducky. Everything okay?" he asked.

"I haven't heard from Gibbs, if that is what you are asking," he revealed. Tony sighed. "Actually, my call concerns Ziva."

"Did you want to speak to her? Only she's just gone for a shower-"

"No, it is best I speak with you," Ducky cut him off. "She was insistent that she was fine, but I did notice several things. The most important being that she is malnourished, so I would not go filling her with those unhealthy pizzas that you adore."

The pizza menu that was in his hands ended up being stuffed back into the drawer. "Oh, right."

"Although, if you insist on Italian food, might I recommend that pasta dish you made for Abigail's gathering last month."

He couldn't remember what he'd made, but he was sure he could whip up some pasta dish. "Yeah, no problem. Anything else?"

"She will certainly be feeling the cold this evening, so ensure that both her and the baby are kept warm. I would turn up the thermostat, but not too much - an overheated baby is not a happy baby. And if the baby has never been in a climate so different from Israel, he will need time to adjust," Ducky instructed.

"Right. Food. Warm. Got it."

"Also, I know that you are very pleased to have her back -" That was an understatement. "-but do not rush things, Anthony. She will not be the same Ziva we once knew for a while, so do not expect her to be up to scratch with your usual banter for a while. Her tolerance will be different and she has many concerns on her shoulders. She is a mother now, after all. Allow her time to rest, and to heal. She has never been away from her son, so do not go offering to disappear with him for a day to give her some time to herself. It must go at her pace, not the pace at which you want her to be back to normal."

Tony sighed. "I wanted her back, Ducky…" he admitted. "But like this?"

"Chin up, my boy, she will be fine," he assured her. "After all, this is Ziva. Regardless of the situation, she is strong willed. I have no doubts that she will be all right."

"Thanks, Ducky."

"That is quite all right. No doubt I will speak to you again this evening, but if I do not, have a merry Christmas."

"You as well," Tony returned.

"I trust I will still see you tomorrow for lunch?"

"Yeah, I'll speak to Ziva in the morning and see how she feels about coming to see everyone," he said, remembering the plan of everyone going to Ducky's for Christmas lunch, as no one was travelling to see their families this year.

When he hung up, he resisted the urge to throw his cell phone across the room, but if he did that it would break and Gibbs would yell at him. It was only when he noticed a pair of eyes watching him that he instead put the cell phone down on the table. Shai was looking up at him, no longer tempted into sleep but curiously watching him. Tony watched him back. The sound of boiling water interrupted their staring contest, and he put the water into one of the mugs he'd set out, leaving the other unattended; he'd come back and add water to that when Ziva was ready for it, otherwise it'd be stone cold when she got to it. He noticed how Shai's head whipped in different directions as he listened to the sounds around him; coffee being stirred, cutlery clinking, the kettle hissing…had he even heard these sounds before?

"I bet your momma talks to you in Hebrew a lot, don't she?" Tony spoke aloud to the little boy, seeing as he was no longer tired.

Shai gurgled some baby-response.

"Yeah, I thought so. I can't really do that, 'cause I don't speak Hebrew. I know the words she says all the time, though…Shalom. I know Shalom. That means 'hello', you know. Well, I think it does. I think it means 'goodbye' as well. And I know 'ani hoev otkha' because she used to say that a lot. I don't think I have to tell you what it means though, do I? I bet she says it to you ten times a day. She said it in Hebrew, and I'd say it in Italian. You know what it is in Italian?"

Shai just gurgled.

"Nice try, but you're wrong. It's 'ti amo'. See, much easier to say, isn't it?"

Again, Shai gurgled.

"Well, your pronunciation's a bit off, but I think you'll get it eventually."

At this, Shai turned his face into Tony's shoulder, throwing his full weight against the man holding him.

"So, you are tired, you were just faking before?" Tony realised.

Shai mumbled against his shoulder.

"Yeah, I thought so."

He took his coffee cup in his free hand and walked into the living room. Before he passed the wall completely, he reached over and turned the thermostat on, hearing the boiler jump into life in the closet beside the bathroom. He sat down on the couch, getting Shai more comfortable against him so that he could keep his promise to Ziva and keep the boy in his arms. Once they were settled, he did what Ziva told him, and stroked the back of his finger up and down his neck. Instantly, the boy moulded against him, and it wasn't long before he was fast asleep, his baby breath beating against his chest.

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed Tony talking to Shai! It reminded me of watching my brother with my cousin when he was a baby (all grown up and 2 now, bless him!) they just used to talk to each other even though neither one of them understood the other. Kinda funny, but also sweet!


	4. Chapter 4

One hundred reviews for three chapters…god I love you guys!

Chapter Four:

He knew that she wasn't going to be long in the shower; she never was, but he was glad that she looked cleaner and slightly less jittery when she stepped into the living room. She looked tiny in his clothes, but as soon as she spotted her son, sleeping peacefully in her partner's arms, she relaxed, her shoulder dropping with relief. He didn't make a big deal about it, as she had every right to be worried, even though he'd never let any harm come to Ziva's son. She'd spent so long worrying about his safety and her own, and he knew that the feeling wasn't going to disappear for her any time soon. He'd have liked to have thought that nothing had changed about her, but the way she had been leaning into his touch in the bedroom before told him otherwise.

"Hey," he whispered as she approached him.

"He is sleeping, yes?" she said quietly, as she crossed the living room.

He nodded. "Yeah, about five minutes ago."

She leaned close to Tony, looking down at her son. He looked comfortable with Tony, sprawled out on his chest as if he had set up a base camp on his shirt. She ran her fingers delicately over his hair. It felt strange that she had spent so many nights stroking her son's hair as it grew thicker and thicker, whispering promises that she would get them out of there. She had done it last night, leaning over the tiny cradle that he knew as his bed and telling him that things would be okay, because in a few hours, they would be gone, and they would be in America soon, and then they could find his father, and they would find her friends, and her friends would be able to help them and keep them safe. Now, she was in Tony's living room, and she knew that she as safe her. Her father would not find her here, because Gibbs would not let him, she assured herself.

"Ziva?"

His voice broke into her thoughts, causing her to jump a little at the sudden sound, even though his voice was barely more than a whisper. Immediately, he reached out, placing one hand over her arm. Where her hair hadn't been cut for many months, it skimmed the top of his palm where she as leant over slightly, leaving wet trails left over from the shower. She lifted her eyes away from her son's head, looking instead at the man who held him.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Sorry? Ziva didn't apologize. Ziva certainly didn't apologize multiple times in one day, especially not for circumstances that were out of her control and definitely not her fault. He frowned a little, stroking this thumb over her wrist. "You okay?" he asked, but she just looked away. "Sorry, wrong question," he realised. "Sit down," he urged, tugging her hand slightly. She looked at him questionably for a moment. "You look like you need to sit down before you fall down, and you obviously want to stay close to the baby but there's no point disturbing him now he's asleep. Sit down," he repeated.

She stayed still for a moment, but then gave in to his pull. She hadn't intended to find herself so close to him, but after no physical contact for the last fifteen months apart from holding her son, the comfort that came from another person, the sort of comfort she'd never considered herself to need…it was nice, warm, even, to feel so near. They were pressed against each other's sides on the couch, his arm falling naturally around her. She froze for a moment, but relaxed, placing her head on his shoulder. In this position, Shai's tiny breath was falling straight on her neck and she closed her eyes. She was exhausted, but she couldn't sleep yet, not until she knew for sure that Gibbs had taken care of things. Instead, she settled on placing her hand on her son's back and listening to his soft breathing. The hand that Tony had around her shoulders settled in a holding grip on her up arm, rubbing up and down slowly.

"I really missed you, you know," he mumbled.

"I missed you, too," she whispered.

They dropped into another silence, just sitting there on the couch, both thinking about the long nights they'd spend wondering whether the other was alive. For Ziva, it was the plaguing thoughts that something terrible had happened to Tony while he was working a case, a thought that had always worried them whenever they heard the words 'gear up'. For Tony, however, it was wondering why she'd never come back and never got in contact. "Why didn't your father let you come back?" he asked, just one of the questions circling in his mind, and one that he felt safe to ask.

"He told me that I was a valuable asset to Mossad, and that it was simply time for me to return home," she remembered.

"Home," he repeated, his voice heavy.

"That was the first problem," she admitted. "It no longer felt like home." Her hand rubbed a gentle circle on Shai's back when he moved in his sleep. "It certainly does not anymore."

His hand stopped moving up and down her arm, just keeping up the motion with his thumb instead. "What was the second problem?"

"Not so much a problem as a blessing in disguise," she said, drawing his gaze instantly to the baby. "Heavy disguise."

"So, did your father do this to you because you weren't married?" he asked.

"I spent many nights wondering that myself, but I suppose in the end it was because of Shai's father," she revealed.

"Not Jewish?" he assumed.

"No, he was not," she said. "Imagine my father's shame when people discovered that his only living child bore the son of a non-Jewish, non-Israeli man outside of marriage."

"Is his father in America?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes."

"You came back to America to find him?"

There was no nod with this, but it was clear that it was her intention. "I believed that if anything happened and that my father did force me to return to Israel, that he could take care of Shai."

Tony frowned. "You wouldn't keep him with you?"

"No," she answered immediately. "My father would have groomed him for Mossad use from a ridiculously early age. I do not want that for him, Tony. Not for my son."

She had held her first weapon at a young age, too young, and the thought of her own son holding a weapon scared her to no end. How had her father had the heart to train her to be an assassin? Did he not feel the same love for her that she felt for her child? How could he have wanted her to grow up to be an emotionally distant killer? She would not want that for her son. She wanted Shai to grow up, to find a wonderful woman whom he loved, to get married and have children, to have a family that was not subject to an overbearing parent who called upon them to serve an agency that would have ruled his childhood years. She didn't want him to end up like her, wondering whether his father have ever really loved him? She knew that Shai's father would love him, that he would fall helplessly in love with him with one look as she had done. She knew that, following this love, would be a surge, an overwhelming urge to protect the tiny life placed in his hands. She knew this. It was why she'd come. No matter what happened to her, Shai would never be safer than he would be with his father.

"You want help?" Tony offered, before he could even think to realise what he was offering to help with. "Finding him? Shai's father?"

She was quiet again for a while, paying close attention to her son's breathing before answering in a tiny voice. "I know where to find him," she told him vaguely.

He cold tell at her tone that she didn't want to say any more on the matter, so he didn't ask any more questions. He was desperate to ask who the boy's father was, torn between the jealousy of it being a man that he had failed to notice on Ziva's radar and the indescribable feeling that he had with Ziva tucked under one arm and her son held close with the other. He settled for doing the same as she did; remaining still and listening to the boy's sleeping breaths and waiting for the silence to be broken by a cell phone, a message from anyone to tell them that things were working out in their favour. The message didn't come, however, and he heard a sharp inhale from Ziva every few minutes. He didn't question it, because he knew it was a sign of her falling to the brink of sleep and then waking her with a start. She was fighting sleep until she knew what was going to happen to her and her son, and after the day she had, after the months she'd had, it wasn't fair to her.

"Do you want to sleep?" he asked her.

"Yes," she mumbled, turning her face into his shoulder for a moment. "But I cannot."

"Yeah, you can," he told her simply. "I'll take care of everything."

"I cannot ask you do to that," she said. "You have done enough for us already."

At that moment, Shai stirred. He turned his face into Tony's body the same way his mother had done, balling up his shirt in his tiny fists. "Muuuhhhh," he mumbled tiredly.

"I am here, tateleh," she whispered, leaning across Tony to kiss her son's head. Shai settled, going back to sleep, but not releasing the new secure hold he had on Tony.

"He sounds like he's trying to talk," he observed.

She smiled gently. "He has been making more sounds, recently, but he will not speak for another few months yet."

"You sure?" he asked. "He sounds halfway to 'momma' already."

"Yes, I wanted it that way," she insisted.

He looked down at her, confused. "Ziva-"

"I knew when he was born that I had to bring him to America, Tony. If we stayed in Israel he would have been trained by Mossad when he was able to stand on his own feet, like I sad, and I could not have that life for him. Here, he will have the upbringing I wish for him to have."

"So, you're 'momma' and not 'Ima'?" he checked.

"Yes, that is right," she answered.

He sighed, the other questioning leaning into his mind again. "Ziva-"

"Please, Tony, do not ask me," she pleaded, knowing exactly where the mother conversation was going to lead them…the father conversation…the conversation she was definitely not ready to have.

He frowned.

"Shai's father," she explained. "Do not ask me."

He looked up at the ceiling, glad that she had her head rested on his shoulder. He didn't know what he'd see when he looked into her eyes, and at the moment that was probably for the best. He just took a breath instead, releasing it slowing and trying to ignore the fact that her hair, still damp from the shower, was leaving a wet patch on his shoulder. Even though she was wearing his sweatpants, a large t-shirt and a sweatshirt of his, the moisture in her hair was probably causing her to feel the cold even though he'd done what Ducky said and turned up the thermostat already. He was about to answer her, although he wasn't sure what with, when a knock on the door interrupted him.

It was a fast rap, repeated over and over to give the sense of urgency that had Tony reaching for his weapon even before Ziva had completely taken Shai from his arms. When he stood, she followed him, standing with her arms tightly around the baby, holding him close, protectively within her arms by the side of the couch. Her expression, previously peaceful, was now filled with panic - had Mossad found her? Was her father on the other side of the door? If it was, Tony would be dead the moment he opened it, armed or unarmed. But the fear of being found had choked up her throat, and no words of warning could escape him.

"It's me! Open up! I know you're here!"

Instead, the voice on the other side of the door was clearly Abby. Her determination was overbearing the usual bubbly tone, but it was undeniably Abby all the same. Ziva relaxed, looking down at the baby to check that her fierce hold on him hadn't disturbed his sleep - it hadn't - as Tony holstered his weapon again and opened the door. She listened to the sound of Abby's rambling, something she had to admit that she missed, from the living room, while from the sounds of it, she was discarding her jacket and shoes at Tony's insistence in the hall still.

"Good, you are here. Not that you wouldn't be. I knew that you were, Gibbs said. He said that Ziva was back, is she really back?"

"Yeah, she's back," Tony confirmed.

Ziva could almost hear Abby's grin. "I had to come over and see her. I missed her so much. Not that you didn't miss her, of course, I know you missed her. But McGee said that she was back, and that she looked in a bad way and that she had a baby with her. I had to come and see her because someone has to tell her that everything's going to be okay, because it is. Gibbs will fix this, he'll fix everything and then she can come back to NCIS and we'll all be a big family again and-"

"And you'll get to be auntie Abby?" Tony finished for her, his interrupting giving her the chance to take a breath before she passed out.

"Yeah," she sighed, after catching her breath.

"Come on in, she's in the living room-" he started, but she was already gone, heading down the hall and into the living room the second she had stopped talking. He followed after her, just in time to see Abby rush over to Ziva.

"Ziva!" she cried, running across the room and opening up her arms as if to throw them around her. Ziva dropped one of her arms, as if to enhance to presence of the baby, and Abby stopped, looking at the child for a minute before she embraced Ziva with one arm, making it possible for her to hug Ziva and get a look at the baby at the same time. "And mini-Ziva," she admired, dropping her voice now that she could see the baby was asleep.

"His name is Shai," Ziva told her.

"Aww," she cooed. "He's so adorable, how old is he?"

"Six months."

She watched Abby's eyebrows raise for a moment, but she said nothing else on the matter. "Wow, he really looks like you."

"So I have been told," Ziva nodded, her eyes meeting Tony's as he came up beside them, placing a hand on the small of Ziva's back.

"God, I've missed you so much! We all have," Abby grinned, tightening her arm around her. "I'm so glad you're back, we were so worried. This is, like, the best Christmas present ever!"

"I have missed you, also, Abby," she smiled gently.

"Gibbs will fix this," she told her, just as she had said to Tony in the hall. "He always fixes everything. He had us looking for you all the time when we weren't working cases, and sometimes even when we were, so you just know that he's going to make sure that you're back for good. You'll see. He's like Superman, only better."

Her enthusiasm gave her hope, which was something she'd not had from anyone other than her son. "I hope so, Abby," she said quietly.

Seeing her mood drop a little, Tony looked to Abby, glad that her positioning meant she couldn't see the gentle touch he gave to Ziva. She'd only inform the entire office and they'd have enough rumours going around at the moment as it was. "Abby, can you do me a favour?" he asked her.

She looked at him incredulously. "Tony, I came to see Ziva, not get your dry cleaning."

"It's not mine," he defended. "Ziva needs clothes, so does Shai. Winter clothes, especially."

Abby considered this for a moment, slightly gutted that she had come over here to see Ziva after all this time and she was now being sent off to the mall. "You mean…"

"Baby shopping," Tony confirmed. "Long overdue, really."

"Tony," Ziva began. "You do not have to do this-"

"Yes, I do," he told her. "Seriously, this winter's been freezing. After being in the heat all this time you'll only both get sick in this weather." He turned back to Abby. "Please, Abs. I've gotta hold the fort down here."

"Have you ever been to the mall on Christmas eve, Tony?" she asked him. "It's worse than a crime scene surrounded by reporters."

"You can use my credit card," he tried to convince her with a dashing smile.

Abby pointed at him. "That smile won't convince me, Anthony DiNozzo," she scolded him, and his smile fell. "But your credit card will," she grinned, holding out her hand.

He dug around his wallet until he found it hidden beneath some small bills, which was not where it belonged, and then held it out to her. "Be gentle?" he asked her.

Abby laughed. "Don't be ridiculous," she said, kissing Ziva on the cheek. "I'll be back soon with super cool stuff," she said.

"Thanks, Abs," Tony told her.

And then, as quickly as she had arrived, she was gone.

With his credit card.

----------

Abby didn't return for hours later, when the sun was just dipping below the horizon. In the meantime, Tony had made some sandwiches which Ziva had eaten more than eagerly, despite them being peanut butter. When Abby knocked on the apartment door, knocking again when he didn't answer quickly enough for her liking, she bustled in with what seemed like a hundred shopping bags. He helped her with what he could, closing the door behind her and speaking in hushed tones. "Shh, I've just managed to convince Ziva to get some sleep," he told her.

"Is she okay?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, she's in my room."

She looked at him strangely. "Is that why it took you so long to answer?"

He nodded. "I said I'd keep an eye on the baby for her while she slept, but he was asleep too so I've put him on the bed with her." At this, Abby looked horrified, dropping one of the bags on his foot. "Don't worry," he assured her, glad that the bag which had landed on him wasn't that heavy. "I put loads of pillows around him and stuff, so it doesn't matter how much he moves, he won't fall off."

She smiled, and then held out the bags. "I got clothes. I got some sweaters for Ziva and some of those combats she always wore, there's some jeans as well. And for the baby there's just a bit of everything I could find for his size, sleep suits, outfits, and then I figured you'd need diapers and toys and such so…" she trailed off, indicating to the hundreds of bags.

He looked at them, cringing. "Do I want to know how much this has set me back?" he asked.

She debated this answer for a moment, and then patted him sympathetically on his arms. "Just remember, all of this is to help Ziva…and if it upset you that much, don't look at your next bank statement."

For a minute, he paled, but when Abby started moving the bags into his living room he followed, helping with whatever she had left behind. "You're brilliant, thanks, Abs," he told her.

"I know," she said simply.

"Have you heard from Gibbs?" he asked her hopefully.

She shook her head. "I talked to Tim, like, ten minutes ago. He said that Gibbs and the Director were still up in MTAC."

Tony sighed. Negotiations that were taking this long were never good negotiations. He ran his hands through his hair, and was about to speak when the sound of some soft sniffles came from his bedroom. Instantly, he headed towards them with Abby following him in close behind. Once inside, he found the source of the disturbance to be Shai, who was barely awake on one side of the bed, reaching his arms out for Ziva who was still sleeping beside him. She must have been exhausted, because she wasn't already awake at his frustration, but with the pillows on either side of him to prevent him rolling, Shai found that he couldn't his mother, so he was easily becoming more distressed, and unfortunately, louder. As Tony reached the side of the bed, Ziva was beginning to be pulled from her own sleep, a gentle frown on her forehead. Seeing this, he leapt forward, lifting Shai from the mattress just when Ziva's hand shot over and discovered that where her son lay was an empty space.

"Shai-" she muttered, shooting up in a panic with all sorts of wild thoughts in her mind. Had someone taken him? Who? What was happening? Where was her son?

"It's okay, I got him," Tony assured her quickly. She looked up, seeing her son in Tony's arms, being bounced gently to try and calm him. Yes, that was right. She was in Tony's bed. Tony was definitely the one holding her baby. That was OK. She'd let Tony. She trusted Tony. Shai trusted Tony. Tony would keep him safe.

"He is thirsty," she knew instinctively. "He cannot be hungry because I fed him before I slept."

"You're still tired," Tony answered back, when he saw her trying to sit up. "Tell me what to do, and I'll take care of it. You need to get some sleep."

She looked at him for a moment, and then to her son. Yes, she was exhausted still, she couldn't deny he was right about that, but for the last six months she, and she alone, had cared for her son. No one else had ever fed him, winded him, rocked him to sleep, comforted his cries, sang to him, loved him, even. They had not been allowed, of course, but they had not offered, either. She hadn't asked because she had been so afraid of what might happen to her son if she had left him alone in the hands of the man who had imprisoned them in what was supposed to be her home. Tony had done most of those things today already. He had known Shai for less than twelve hours and yet he had held him while Ducky examined him, he had allowed him to fall asleep against him, he had happily taken care of him while she had showered, and no doubt he had talked to him because she knew how much he liked to talk to everyone and anyone. She nodded at him slowly. "There is an empty bottle in our bag, near the top, if you fill it with water or some watered down juice, that will be fine for him."

"I've got apple juice, will he drink that?"

She nodded. "Just make sure that it is diluted, or it will be too strong for him."

"Okay," he nodded in return. "I'll just be in the kitchen with him, okay? No further. Shout if you need anything."

"I'll stay with her," Abby volunteered from the doorway.

Tony looked back at Ziva, hoping that a glimmer of her former self would shine through and that she'd insist she didn't need babysitting, but she merely returned her head to Tony's pillow, curling up comfortably beneath the blanket with her eyes open. Reaching down with his free hand, he stroked her hair gently, glad when she didn't flinch under his touch. That might have just broken his heart, to know that her instinctive reaction was to be afraid of him. The fact that anything could have happened to her out there didn't leave them with many kind thoughts, but this assured him otherwise. She wasn't afraid of him. She felt safe with him. He stroked the hair behind her ear, and then ran the back of his fingers down the exposed side of her neck, as she had instructed him to do with the baby earlier.

"Try and get some sleep, okay?" he whispered softly.

She said nothing, but when his hand stopped trailing she captured it in her own, holding it for a moment. From where he found his hand suspect, his thumb found her jaw line. This wasn't typical Ziva behaviour, but she wasn't typical Ziva before. Who knew how long it'd be before she was back to threatening to castrate him for any physical contact? He didn't know how many times she'd threaten him for treating her like such a fragile child at the moment when she was back to normal, but he didn't care. She needed comfort and he was going to give it to her. She needed him.

"Hey," he whispered, drawing her attention back up to him. She raised her eyes. "You're safe here," he assured her quietly. "It's okay. You can sleep. I won't be far." She nodded, and returned her head to the pillow again, sighing. He looked down on her for a moment, trailing his hand down through her hair one final time and stepping away. He wanted to scream and shout, just to get a rise from her, but he remembered Ducky's words, and that it would take time, so he just nodded to Abby, approaching her instead. "No matter how much she fights it, she needs to rest," he told her.

Abby nodded, but turned her attention to Shai for a moment. After all, she had only seen him for a few seconds when he was sleeping, and now she wanted to shower him in the attention that she'd happily have done from the moment he was born. She was angry at Ziva's father for doing this to Ziva, for breaking her spirit and keeping her away from them, but she was also angry because of this little boy. She knew that he'd have been so loved and attended to if they'd been around when he was born. She knew that when Ziva was in labour, they'd all have been there, rallying around to get whatever she needed, and they'd all be so happy when the boy was born. And after that, she knew that they'd have all helped out with babysitting. This was the first NCIS baby. They'd all want to be involved.

"He's so gorgeous," she cooed with a smile.

"Yeah, he is," Tony agreed. "He would be, though, being Ziva's kid."

Abby smiled, but when Shai turned his attention away from Tony's shirt collar, she topped. She froze for a moment, staring intently into the baby's eyes. Shai looked back at her for a second, but then turned back to twisting Tony's shirt collar between his hands with a look of fierce concentration. Abby continued to stare at him, though, something that Tony didn't ignore.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she covered up quickly. "Just worried about Ziva."

He brought that explanation, and started down the hall, looking over his shoulder at her. "I'll try and settle him with a drink than then bring him back, hopefully Ziva will be asleep by then."

Abby waited until she heard the tap of his feet against the kitchen door before she crossed the room, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed to the side Ziva lay on. Abby had been to enough parties, or rather 'late night drinking sessions because they were frustrated at not being able to find Ziva' at Tony's apartment, and on one of these occasions (okay, maybe three) she had taken a sneaky peak in his bedroom. She knew that the side Ziva lay on was usually filled by Tony, because she'd seen it as the only side of the bed where the bedclothes were actually crumpled. The other side was usually untouched, probably until Tony had lay the baby onto it. It was strange to see Ziva lying on the same side of the bed that she'd helped Tony collapse into when he was too drunk to stand alone. It was even stranger to see her turn her face into the pillow to get more comfortable.

Sitting beside her, Abby took hold of the hand that Ziva had placed in the empty space where her son lay moment before. "I missed you," Abby told her again.

Ziva smiled, closing her eyes lightly. "I missed you, too."

"I'm really glad you're back," she continued. "It's not the same without you."

Ziva simply kept her smile, and gripped Abby's hand in return.

Abby bit her tongue for as long as possible, but it eventually built her up inside of her. She knew that Ziva wasn't sleeping yet, because she didn't look completely relaxed, and it wouldn't be long before Tony was back with the baby. She heard the mutterings in the background of Tony chatting away to the mumbling baby from the other side of the apartment, and ended up physically biting her lip until the moment came when the question came tumbling out of her mouth, the one question that no one had dared to ask yet.

"Tony's the baby's father, isn't he?"

Ziva's eyes shot open.

A/N: Not that all of you didn't see that coming, of course hehe.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter Five:_

There was silence for a long time, with Abby holding her gaze trained on Ziva, who made no move to answer. Instead, Abby could see her mind working, wondering how she had come to that conclusion, wondering what she could possibly say in reply to the sudden remark. No words seemed right. She hadn't wanted it to be like this. She knew that unless she explained completely, that the questions would eventually start, especially with her team being so observant. If anything, she knew that she should be glad that it was Abby who had come to her first, because she doubted that anyone would have known before Abby. Upon doing his check, Ducky may have suspected based on Shai's age, any maybe the all knowing Gibbs had naturally assumed, but Abby was the trained forensic scientist who was supposed to see the tiniest detail, and she usually saw a lot more than that. She had, however, planned to explain her child's origins on her own terms, not on the grounds that other people set when they discovered it for themselves. For a start, she'd have liked for the man in question to have known first.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Abby prompted, when Ziva said nothing

Ziva sighed, closing her eyes. "Abby, you must understand-"

"Aren't I?" she repeated.

She nodded, surrendering. "Yes."

"Wow," Abby breathed. That had been a lot easier that she imagined. She'd expected the usual Ziva spitfire, the typical defences set up for her to try and keep anything personal a secret. Ducky had been right when he said she was a shadow of her former self.

"How did you know?" Ziva asked quietly.

"His eyes," she revealed.

To her surprise, Ziva laughed a little. "Yes, I always did see the connection in their eyes," she agreed. On the hardest days, it had been the only thing to get her through the day. "From the moment he first opened them, there was no doubt."

"Does Tony know?" Abby asked.

She shook her head.

"Ziva!" she scolded.

"I cannot, Abby, not yet," she replied.

"Why not?" she demanded, but still keeping her voice low - after all, she was supposed to be under Tony's orders and making sure that Ziva rested.

"Because I do not even know if I am staying," she reasoned, her voice catching emotionally in her throat even though it was very much unlike the Ziva that the others knew. "If my father finds me and tries to recall me-"

"He won't," Abby assured her. "Gibbs won't let him."

"I have no right to be here," she pointed out sadly. "I am not a US citizen and I am no longer employed by NCIS as a liaison."

"But your child's father is here," she reminded her. "There has to be a way."

"And hopefully, there will be," she agreed. "But for now, I need to discover exactly what is in store for both Shai and myself before I tell him the truth." Abby was silent, staring at Ziva in a mixture of sympathy and disbelief. "Please, Abby, do not tell anyone," she begged quietly.

"All happy again," Tony announced, as he brought Shai back in, with the little boy still holding onto the bottle and sucking on it even though there wasn't anything left in there. Their arrival interrupted the rather intense girl talk that had been happening in his bedroom, and thankfully for Ziva, he seemed oblivious to what it had been about. He took one look at her, however, and then frowned. "Why aren't you asleep?" he asked her.

"I missed Abby," she reasoned simply.

Tony looked between them, seeing which one was going to give him an understandable explanation, and Abby shrugged. "We missed our girl talk," she justified.

Tony narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Since when do you two girl talk?" he asked.

"Since we have the most gorgeous guy in the world to talk about," the Goth smirked.

At this, he grinned. "Well, I-"

"We weren't talking about you, Tony," Abby told him, effortlessly plucking Shai from his arms and bringing him down into her arms. "We were talking about this gorgeous little guy."

He looked wounded for a moment, but recovered himself. "I knew that," he mumbled.

Ziva remained silent, watching as her son received more loving attention from yet another person who had known him for a mere few hours. It was nice to see, after so much time locked away from people who cared. Shai deserved this love that they offered so easily. She smiled gently, but it was still strange to her to see them accept this boy into their lives without a second thought. It just heightened her believe that this was her true family, and that this was where she really belonged. She only hoped that this was where they would be able to remain.

----

It was around eight o'clock when Gibbs finally called. Tony had been in the kitchen, clearing away the remains of their pasta dinner that he had cooked. Abby had stayed for dinner, but managed to excuse herself from helping with the dishes when McGee called saying that Gibbs needed her because of another case. Tony had been ready to follow her, but Gibbs order still remained, and there was no way he was leaving Ziva and the baby alone while they had no idea what was happening. He didn't mind, because he'd missed her so much and having her near again was like a weight off his shoulders, but not knowing what was going on was dragging at his mind every time he looked at her. At the moment, she was lying on the couch, with Shai draped across her chest. Both had been asleep when he took his ringing cell phone into the kitchen, still catching up from jet lag, no doubt.

"Boss?" he answered, as soon as he was far away enough not to wake the sleeping pair, but he could still see them from where he stood.

"Ziva and the baby okay?"

"Yeah, both sleeping," he confirmed. "What's going on?"

"Director David has demanded that Ziva return to Israel, with the baby."

"What?!" Now hadn't been a perfect time for Tony to start clearing away the empty mugs on the kitchen worktop.

"We have no legal hold on her-" Gibbs started, but for once, Tony had the courage to cut him off.

He slammed the mug in his hands down on the counter. It shattered at the handle, ceramic shards digging into his palm. The pain was agonising, but he ignored it, actually clenching his fist tighter around the broken handle. "Boss, you can't make her go back!" he argued.

"DiNozzo-"

"You can't!" he repeated, resting his head on the cabinet door before him, still holding the broken handle. "You can't let him take her away from me."

Gibbs was silent for a moment, waiting for Tony to sigh again before he spoke. "David's most trusted men are on their way to DC to convince her to return. Once I've gotten through to David, I'll come straight over. Until I'm there, I want you to keep watch, and be prepared in case they figure out where she is. Don't let anyone in that door unless it's one of us and we've called ahead first. Is that clear?"

"I can't lose her again, boss," he said quietly, his voice strangled.

"We'll fix this, DiNozzo," he assured the younger agent before hanging up. It was only now that Tony noticed the china shards digging into his palm, and he swore loudly.

"Tony?"

His head whipped around, finding Ziva standing in the doorway. Shai was balanced on her hip, still fast asleep and undisturbed. "I thought you were asleep," he said dumbly, at a loss of what else to say.

"I heard you talking," she said, her voice distracted as she stepped into the kitchen completely. "I heard something break."

It was only then that he realised what the expression on her face was; fear. It was only natural. He had been right next to her when she had drifted into sleep, and then she had been awoken suddenly by the sound of something breaking in the kitchen and had found him missing. "Yeah," he laughed nervously, glancing at the broken mug in pieces on the counter. "Yeah, I uh…I broke the mug."

"You are hurt," she said, stepping closer.

"It's nothing," he brushed off, even though he winced when he noticed the shards of mug residue that were stuck in his palm.

With a tenderness that he barely remembered of her, she took hold of his other hand, tugging on it gently. "Come with me," she said simply. He did, allowing her to lead him into his bedroom and she indicated for him to sit down. He did, watching as she lay Shai on the bed near to him, safely away from the edges of the mattress, and then disappeared into the bathroom. She came back moments later with a damp washcloth. He expected her to place it directly on his skin, but instead she observed the tiny wounds, starting to remove the intruding shards and placing them on her balanced knee with ease. She'd done this before, and it wasn't the first time he'd had foreign objects pulled from his flesh, but it was the first time she'd done it for him. He'd have no trouble removing the shards himself, but he was silent when she id it, not bothering to point it out to her. She kept her eyes down, so that all he could see was the top portion of her face watching her own movements. When she had finished removing the fragments, she started to clean the wound, placing the cold cloth on top of it and pressing tightly against the bloodied area. He hissed.

"Sorry," she murmured, not loosening her hold.

"Don't worry," he shook his head. "It's not that bad."

"Why did you break the mug?" she asked him.

"I didn't mean to," he said, like a three year old caught in the middle of something bad.

"Yes, I had gathered that," she nodded, still looking down. "You were speaking with Gibbs, yes?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I was."

"Is there any news?" she asked, almost hesitantly. He was quiet for a moment, looking down at their hands. His silence told her everything. "I see," she whispered, looking over her shoulder and at her sleeping son instead.

"Ziva, this doesn't mean-"

"Does it not?" she questioned. "My father wishes me to return."

"That doesn't mean we're going to let you," he told her. She looked up at him, and he wasn't sure what it was he was seeing in her eyes, but he knew that he'd never seen it there before. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd acted like a petulant child on the phone with Gibbs. Perhaps it was because even after she'd left, he'd still considered Ziva a part of the team, and he was too used to watching her back, even after all this time, to watch her walk away into something so dangerous as her father's home. "You don't want to go, and it's not safe there for you or the baby," he told her.

She shook her head slowly. "You do not understand, Tony," she told him.

"Enlighten me," he suggested.

She returned her gaze to their hands, and he knew that his palm didn't need as much attention as she was giving it.

"Let me guess," he assumed. "You don't want to talk about it."

"I cannot," she admitted. He didn't pry any further, which she was glad for, and she released the cover on his hand, taking out one stray shard which had escaped her notice originally. "I did not mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard what you said on the phone," she told him, feeling his hand tense in her grasp. "In particular, the last two things you said."

"We worked together for a long time," he tried to explain, knowing how lame it sounded. "You're the best partner I ever had. I wanted you back on our team."

As she raised her eyes to his, he couldn't help feeling like she was staring straight through him.

-------

She found it easy to fall asleep again, but ended up waking in the middle of the night despite herself. She was not sure what had caused her to wake initially, but her instincts instantly led her to her son, who was sleeping on the other side of the bed inside a fortress of pillows that Tony had made up. He was still sleeping peacefully, unaware of the situation that happened around him because of his mother's actions. She stroked a finger down the side of her son's face, remembering the innocence and amazement in his features when Tony had remembered the holiday season suddenly and switched on the lights on his Christmas tree. Without giving her room to ask what he was doing, he had taken the baby from her and taken her hand in his, and lead them both over to the tree, so that she could see Shai's reaction to the multicoloured lights. After all, he hadn't seen anything like them before, and given his reaction to the television, Tony thought he'd like it. He'd stared wide-eyed at them at first, but eventually he had reached out and tried to touch them, as well as any other decorative ornaments that had been hung on the branches.

Convinced that he was happy and safe in his sleep, Ziva glanced over at the clock, the illuminating numbers confirming that it was five minutes to midnight. Five minutes away from Christmas day. At first, that explained why she found Tony sitting in the window seat in the bedroom, looking out of the window into the empty street below. She knew that Christmas was an important holiday to him, and she wasn't entirely sure he had outgrown sitting up all night trying to catch Santa beneath the tree, but the gun in his hands told her otherwise.

"What are you doing?" she asked him quietly.

"Making sure he doesn't take you back," he answered instantly, never taking his eyes off of the window. Gibbs hadn't arrived yet, and he wanted to be sure that he saw the first sign of anything bad.

Ziva stood, going over to his side. He remained sat in the same position, his legs drawn up by his chest and his gun in his hand, staring out the window. Surprising the both of them, she sat down in front of him, edging back between his legs and lying on her side with her head on his chest. She had faced the other way, so that she could see Shai sleeping on the bed, with her back to the window that he so carefully stared through, and the arm that wasn't holding his gun wound around her. "Thank you," she whispered.

"No problem," he replied.

It was silent for a while, and she watched the clock numbers change. Four minutes to midnight.

"This is driving you crazy, yes? Not being at NCIS?" she assumed.

"No," he shook his head, feeling the brush of her hair beneath his chin. "It's driving me crazy knowing that your father wants to take you away when I've only just got you back."

Her eyes fell to the gun. "My father will have sent his best officers," she told him. "I am afraid one weapon will not be enough to stop them."

He moved a little, revealing to her the backup Sig that was still holstered before moving back into the position they were comfortable in. "I won't let him hurt you, Ziva."

"It is not myself I am afraid for," she told him.

Tony followed her gaze to the baby sleeping soundly on the bed. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt him either," he told her. "Anyone, and I mean that."

The clock changed again. Three minutes to midnight.

"He should not have been born into this situation," she realised sadly. "He should have been born surrounded by the people who care about him. He should have had the chance to know his father…"

"At least he has a mom who's willing to risk everything to give him a good life," he pointed out to her, his fingers taking up a familiar trail up and down her arm. "A mom like that is hard to come by. He's lucky to have you."

"Sometimes, I do not think so," she admitted. "I should have got him out of Tel Aviv sooner, away from my father."

"It was out of your hands, Ziva," he justified.

"But it should not have been."

"But it was," he repeated, "and you did the best you could with the situation. He's a happy kid, and he'll grow up happy just like you wanted him too."

"Maybe just without a mother," she mused, tears welling up in her eyes despite herself.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

She sighed, one of the tears slipping onto her cheek. "If my father wishes me to return, he will threaten Shai. If I know him well, and I do, he will promise to leave my son alone to grow up away from Mossad, on the condition that I return with him. And if it means that my son has that opportunity, I will have no other choice but to take it."

"Yeah, you will," Tony insisted.

"I am not so sure," she said.

"Gibbs will fix this."

"What if he cannot this time?" she asked.

"Then I'll have to do something. Anything." He sighed. "I can't go through that again, Ziva. Fourteen months wondering whether you're even alive? It was torturing me. I can't go through that again."

The clock changed: two minutes until midnight.

"Why are you doing this, Tony?" she asked him softly.

"Doing what?" he asked.

"You are sitting up in the middle of the night, with a loaded weapon, watching us sleep," she stated. "Why?"

He was quiet for a moment, brushing his face across her hair. "You know why," he mumbled.

"I wish to hear you say it," she asked of him.

Again, he was quiet, but only long enough to manoeuvre her body further up his, so that her head was rested on his shoulder and when he turned his head, they were looking into each other's eyes. "Remember the night before you left?" he mumbled, so close that she felt his words on her skin.

"Yes," she whispered.

"We sat here, like this, looking outside, watching that thunderstorm. We sat here all night, just talking about the most random things. Then we started talking about you leaving for Israel, and you promised you'd be back soon. I believed you. You believed it, too. So we made a deal, to make it easier; one week with your father, then you were back, and it was our turn. Our turn to be us, together. We made a deal," he repeated, kissing her forehead with his hand on her cheek. "I care about you, okay? A lot. I meant what I said that night before you went."

"As did I," she nodded, an action which only succeeded in making him continue the gentle touch against her cheek. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the clock change: one minute until midnight.

"I know that you've been through a lot, but I waited for you," he assured her. "I never gave up waiting, so I want you to know that I'm going to carry on waiting, and whenever you're ready to be 'us', I'm still all for that," he told her softly.

This time she said nothing, just closing her eyes to his touch. His embrace was so tight yet so gentle, and she hadn't felt that safe for a long time, probably not since the night he was talking about. She had waited so long to be back in his arms again, and now that she was she couldn't bear to say anything to compromise that, but her conversation with Abby kept flooding back into her mind. She kept her eyes closed for a long time, just lying there, the feel of his lips grazing her forehead whenever she moved, but eventually she opened her eyes.

She was about to speak, but a murmur from across the room distracted both of them. Their heads whipped around to the baby on the bed, but they saw the little boy shuffle around a little before settling back down, one arm thrown above his head and the other at his side. As this happened, the clock beyond him changed: 00:00.

"Midnight," Tony mused quietly. "Merry Christmas, I guess."

Christmas, she thought to herself. Christmas was a time for family. Strange how it had been that exact time when she had found the courage within her to say what needed to be said.

"Tony, the night before I left," she began, breaking off when she struggle with the words. She felt Tony's lips brush her skin again.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

"That was the night Shai was conceived."

A/N: I loved writing that scene! It felt like sweets!


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter Six:_

_**Previously on Save Us:**_

"_Tony, the night before I left," she began, breaking off when she struggled with the words. She felt Tony's lips brush her skin again._

"_What is it?" he asked softly._

"_That was the night Shai was conceived."_

A rush of emotions swept through Tony at her words, all of which rendered him silent for the longest of moments. Any chance of words choked up and tied on his tongue, simple because he had no idea what to say. If he'd suspected this, he could have planned what he would say (how anyone could, he didn't understand), but he could honestly say he hadn't. The hand that had been stroking up and down her arm stopped, falling motionless to his side. His other hand dropped his gun, which thankfully wasn't ready to fire, so there was no gunshot alarm tearing through the room, and it fell to the floor with a thud as it landed on the carpet. At his limp reaction, Ziva tensed in his arms, preparing herself for a negative reaction. After her struggle to come here, she was terrified that Shai would now be rejected by his father, and so she closed her eyes again, hoping to delay that moment for as long as possible. Shai didn't deserve to be shunned, but Tony didn't deserve for her to continue withholding the truth from him any longer. Part of her knew that the best time would have been when she first arrived back, when she first saw her son in his arms, but she was so afraid of everything else that she couldn't possible have summoned the courage to tell him.

Tony turned his head slowly, looking at the tiny child on the bed. Before, it had simply been a baby on the bed, Ziva's baby, but now the little boy that they watched so peacefully was his son, too. Their son. He had a son. He had a child with Ziva, because of the night before she left. Shai was his son.

The first comprehendible thought that he recognised was shock, obviously, but it was more the shock that he hadn't been able to see it. The eyes he'd thought were familiar, now closed in sleep, were naturally inherited from him - of course they'd be familiar, he'd spent thirty-five years staring back at them in a mirror. The baby's hair was much lighter than Ziva's, even though it was still dark in colour, more or less identical to his own shade, if not slightly darker. He even gargled away to himself as much as Tony liked to talk. How hadn't he seen it? Then more terrifying thoughts popped into his mind - if he hadn't noticed it, that was no surprise. Outside of a crime scene he wasn't the most observant person, especially not when it came to close to home matters. The others, however, were. What about Gibbs? Or Ducky? Or Abby? They'd all had a close up look at Shai - Abby had even spent particularly long with a gaze that he'd found unnerving. Had they noticed the similarities? Had they just assumed that he was the father when Ziva had returned?

Then he felt guilty. One of the things Ziva had told him about Israel that actually made any sense was that her father was ashamed of her child's father. Her father had been angry because Ziva had bore the child of an American - him. Her father did this because of him. It was complicated guilt, however. Her father still would have terminated her position, as not even Ziva had known she was pregnant when she left for DC, not after one day, but her father might not have kept her locked away. Then again, she may have been sent on one of Mossad's suicide missions, and he'd have lost her. She might not even be alive, if not for this child. Their child. His son, who's mere existence had brought Ziva back to him. If it weren't for the baby, she might never have had the motivation to return to DC and to him. The night that they spent together before they were separated may have saved her lie.

The thought of her being anywhere other than his arms ignited a reaction from him, and he subconsciously tightened his arms around her.

"Tony," Ziva whispered at his action. "Tony, please, say something."

"My son," he whispered, barely hearing her original question. "That's my son."

"Yes," she nodded.

"I have a son," he murmured, unaware of the tiny smile growing on his lips. "With you."

"Yes," she repeated. "I am sorry I did not tell you straight away. I was going to wait until I knew what was happening, but seeing you with him, and seeing how happy Shai is around you, I just could not keep it from you any longer."

He nodded numbly, unsure of what else he could do. He'd never have imagined that all this time, Ziva was with his child. He'd thought of many terrifying thoughts - dead, in danger, morbidly injured - but never this. He hadn't even thought about the consequence with the night before she left. Sure, it had been spur of the moment, and neither of them had been thinking about protection, but it had never dawned on him that she might have been pregnant. That was something that happened to other people, not to them. Had he knew that she was out in Israel with his son, he wouldn't have let Gibbs stop him getting on that plane to Tel Aviv to demand her return. He closed his eyes, ridding himself of any bad thoughts. She was back now, and so was his son.

At that moment, the boy in question stirred from his sleep. He grumbled a little, then became more agitated when he couldn't sense his mother nearby. Instinctively, Ziva pushed herself up from Tony's shoulder, but when she went to stand he stopped her. Words died on his tongue again as she looked at him curiously, wondering why he was preventing her from going to her distressed child, but he sighed, and then looked between her and the baby. "May I?" he asked, a little awkwardly.

She nodded, remaining on the window seat as Tony went over to the side of the bed where Shai lay, looking down on him for a moment before he lifted the little boy into his arms. He bounced him a little, as he manoeuvred him onto his shoulder, cradling his head carefully in one hand and holding him under his diaper with another. He stayed there for a moment, holding him, and feeling for the first time that he was holding his son. Before, he had simply been holding and helping with Ziva's son. Now, he knew that that this little boy was his son as well, and the rush of protection that he had towards Ziva was doubled, knowing that she was no longer the only one he needed to protect. It was his son that he held against him. It was his son's hand that reached out for him. It was his son's head that he cradled; his son's soft hair that he felt against the back of his hand; his son's cries that filled his ear until they calmed; his son's soft breaths that he felt beating against his neck. He'd known all along that with the child's father being American, they would find a way to keep the two of them in the country, but now he was willing to go to Mossad headquarters and personally batter Director David.

It was the Mossad Director that would feel the fury of his angry, that suddenly coursed through him again. He was so far beyond angry, that he didn't know what else to call it. That man had caused him to be separated from his son, his family. He didn't know how he would have reacted if Ziva had returned as originally planned, and then told him when she later realised that she was pregnant. He'd have been shocked, of course, but he knew that he'd have done the right thing by the baby. Even though he was immature at times, he'd had the growing urge to settle down and raise a family as the years went by. And if it weren't for Director David, he'd have done that six months ago when the baby was born. He'd have been there through the pregnancy, catering to all those goddamn cravings that he'd heard horror stories about from other men. He'd have been there to see his child on the ultrasound, and to convince Ziva in the small hours of the morning that they could do this. He would have been there when she gave birth, letting her damage the bone structure in his hand as they welcomed their son into the world together. He'd have been there on those nights when she was exhausted and desperately needed sleep, but the baby was still crying. He'd have been there when she needed someone, when she needed him, to help raise her son. He didn't get to see the little boy on his first day of life, or the first time he smiled, or hear his first cry, his first laugh. He didn't get to see his son for six months, because of Ziva's father.

If he hadn't been ready to kill him before, he certainly was now.

He returned to the window seat, holding Shai against his shoulder. Now, without his gun in his hand, he used his extra arm to cradle the little boy. Ziva tucked herself under his other arm, taking up her position that she had held moments ago, safe and snug in his arms as their son now was as well. She traced a finger down the side of Shai's neck, watching with a soft smile as he squirmed at the tickling sensation an the burrowed himself closer to Tony. He wasn't hungry, and he didn't need a change. He just wanted a cuddle.

"Thank you," Tony whispered to her, as Shai settled back into sleep against him, his tiny hand gripping the front of his sweater.

"For what?" she asked.

"For him," he answered, tracing his thumb down the baby's back. "For having the courage to come back, so that we could all be together."

She settled against him, her face only inches from the baby's. "I had no other choice," she admitted. "He needed to meet his father, and in Israel he was too close to death."

"Well, he doesn't have to worry about Israel now," he assured her. "Neither do you. What I said before still stands. I'm not letting you go back there. I have a family now, and I have to protect it."

Relief flooded through her, and she sighed. Family. They were his family. He wanted to protect his family. He wanted to protect his son - she knew he would be able to protect Shai. And she was glad. To have brought her tiny son halfway round the world to safety, only to have him rejected by his father would have been too much to bear, and there had never been a back up plan. Now, she knew that she could rest easily, knowing that whatever happened to her, Shai would be safe and wanted and most importantly, loved.

"_Sleep well, little children, wherever you are."_

She frowned, moving her head to look up at him. "Tony?"

Did he just blush, or was it the light from the passing car? "My…uh…my mom used to sing this to me on Christmas eve, before she died."

"And you are singing it to Shai?" she questioned.

"Yeah," he nodded.

She mimicked his nod, and returned her head to his shoulder, listening as he continued to sing. She'd heard him singing his overly dramatic version of Frank Sinatra songs, and even the occasional Bond theme that she 'just had to hear', but this was different. He wasn't trying to impress anyone or annoy anyone, he was just recalling his past and bringing it into his present.

"_Tomorrow is Christmas, beneath every the snowflakes will fall, and tomorrow you'll wish, one and wall, waiting under the tree."_

Already, Shai's eyes had closed in sleep, gripping Tony's shirt in his hands and breathing against his neck. Ziva could feel her own sleep beckoning her too, as Tony's whispered singing washed over them. At any other time, many months ago, she might have teased him, begged him to stop singing, but knowing that this song was sung for her son was different, and she was content to listen to his voice, no matter how imperfect it was.

"_Sleep well, little children, pleasant dress through the is Christmas, all merry and brightSoon you'll hear the bells right, time for dreams to come true,As the world wakes to bring Merry Christmas to you."_

-------

"What is going on inside your head?"

The question stunned him for a moment, shaking him out of a trance he hadn't been aware he was in. The three of them had moved away from the window ledge, where their positioning had become cramped after a while, and were now lying on the bed with Shai taking the centre space of the mattress, his two parents (together for the first night since his conception) were lying on either side, staring down at him. Tony hadn't been able to take his eyes off of him since learning that Ziva's son was also his son, but he hadn't realised quite how silent he'd become.

"What?" he mumbled as he shook himself. He couldn't deny that he was beginning to feel exhausted, but the need to stay away and protect Ziva and their son was greater than any desire to close his eyes and rest.

"I remember you talking more," she said softly. "Something must be going on inside your mind for you to look so conflicted."

He sighed, trying to keep his voice gentle even though his tone was filled with an impatient frustration. "I don't know how to keep you safe," he admitted reluctantly. "I'll do anything to keep you safe, you know that, but I don't know where to start. I don't even know if Gibbs does. I just…I don't know."

Ziva reached over the baby, shuffling a fraction closer as she placed her arm on Tony's bicep. "Yet, you know that you care."

He nodded. "It's the only thing I'm sure of right now."

"You need to hold on to that," she told him. "If this situation gets worse before it improves you need to hold on to something you are sure of. When we do not have that, we do not have hope."

"I can't hold on to that if you get taken away from me," he mused quietly, taking her hand off his arm and holding it in his grasp. "If your father takes you back, I have to live with knowing that I did nothing to help you. I have to stay here, without you, without Shai, knowing that everyone else had the chance to do something other than me. All I was allowed to do was sit here and watch over you while they argued your case. I can't let that happen, Ziva. I can't wait on good faith. Not for this. I have to do something."

"You are doing something," she assured him.

He laughed hollowly. "I'm sitting in my apartment doing nothing."

"That is not true."

"Ziva…"

"You are here with me," she reminded him. "If I were alone right now, I would be going mad, and that would be no help to my son. You are with me. Us," she corrected herself. "You are with us."

He smile gently. "Yeah, I am."

Looking at each other over the top of their sleeping child, Tony felt his heart pounding. Twenty four hours ago, he'd been wondering whether or not she was even alive. Now, she was alive, relatively well, and in his bed, with their son. Their son. He had a son, he still couldn't believe that. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that he had his son sleeping only inches away from him, he probably wouldn't have believed it at all. The hand of hers that he was holding moved slightly in his grasp, not to pull away but rather to get more comfortable, and then he raised it to his lips, kissing the fingers that he hadn't felt for so long. In fact, the last time he'd felt them, it had resulted in a baby. God, he'd missed her touch.

"I'm not going to let you go," he assured her quietly. "I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep you and Shai here, with me. I need you to know that."

Ziva simply nodded. She could tell from the seriousness in his eyes when he looked at their son that he wasn't playing around. He meant what he said - that he would do anything. She was glad for it, although a little afraid to realise that he would stop at nothing. Shai sighed in his sleep, and she kissed the top of his head. When she raised her eyes again, Tony was grinning. "What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing," he mumbled, still smiling. "Just…Christmas day, and I've got you back, I've got a son…it's kinda cliché."

"But it is a good thing, yes?" she checked, still worried that things were working out too well so far.

"Oh yeah," he nodded, touching the soft downy skin on his son's scalp. "A real good thing. Although, I gotta tell you, I'm not all that experienced with diapers and any kind of baby stuff other than holding them."

"I was not, either," she reminded him. "You will learn, as I did."

He nodded, knowing that he words weren't meant to remind him of her situation, but it did anyway. He sighed, watching the baby boy wriggle restlessly in his sleep before settling again. He certainly moved like a DiNozzo - constantly, with no real purpose. "Tell me about it," he asked her softly.

"What would you like to know?"

"The day he was born," he said, keeping his eyes on the baby. "Tell me what happened that day."

She was quiet for a moment, and then started to explain that fateful June morning. "It was early morning, and I had been having pains all night. I tried to ignore them, to make myself believe that it was not time. Even though I knew that escape was impossible in my condition, I had always imagined that my child would be born back here, right up until he arrived in this world. I did not realise how afraid I was until the servant brought me my food and water for the morning and did nothing to help with the fact that I was in labour. He simply left the room. No one else returned to help. My father did not even come to see his grandchild born. I was alone for the entirety of the labour."

"How long?" Tony asked, his throat drying up knowing that she had been alone when he should have been there.

"I do not remember, exactly," she said, shaking her head. "But it was nightfall by the time he arrived. I had to make do with what I had in my room to deliver him myself, and it was hard to concentrate with the pain. Had a doctor been there I would have been given some pain relief, but there was none offered to me. He…" she looked down at her son. "He was worth every moment of the pain, but to be alone while I felt it was terrifying. At that time, I would have even settled for my father's presence."

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I should have been there."

"You could not help it," she reminded him.

"I should have found you," he insisted. She just remained silent. "I'd have done the right thing, you know?" he told her. "If you'd been here when you found out about the baby. I'd have stayed. I'd have been there for everything. We'd have done it all together. You know that, right?"

She nodded, moving closer. "Yes, I know. It is what got me through the labour." He looked at her in confusion, so she elaborated. "I imagined that you were with me, complaining that I was damaging your hand…telling me about movies until I wanted to scream at you…I imagined that you were with me, holding my hand, telling me that I could do it, and that I did not have to be afraid to be a mother." She wiped a stray tear, not realising that it had fallen until it touched her cheek. "And then he was born…and it was like staring into your eyes when he first looked at me."

"Ziva…" he sighed, but he was cut off. There was a knock at the door, and Tony shot up from his position on the bed. In less than a few seconds, Tony had his weapon in his hands and was looking into the hall, and Ziva had lifted the sleeping child into her arms, a look of fear distorting her face. Both their hearts were pounding. Tony looked back at her. "Stay here," he told her. "You hear anyone's voice who isn't with us, go into the bathroom with Shai and lock yourself in," he instructed, before handing her his backup weapon. She looked at it strangely for a moment. It had been so long since she had held a weapon that she wondered whether she even had the strength to use one anymore, but Tony's voice brought her back into the present. "Ziva!" he snapped a little.

She jumped at his voice, nodding as she held the weapon in one hand, her infant son in the other arm. She stood further back in the room, ready to run into the bathroom as ordered as Tony walked down towards the front door. Both of them praying as he inched towards the door…_please be Gibbs, please be Gibbs, please be Gibbs_

A/N: Okay, that first bit might have been a bit cheesy, but it was something I could really see in my head with the three of them sitting together. And come on, it is Christmas :P I'm sorry I didn't update as soon as I promised. I'm really bad at finishing a chapter if I stop halfway through it, and that's what happened with this one. Basically, I'm terrible at going back to what I've already written and I end up starting all over again, that's why it took a while!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hi guys. Sorry I haven't updated this for so long, I kinda lost inspiration for a while and I needed to get something cleared up and didn't know how to explain it. Basically, I know how this story is going to end up now and it's just getting to certain points of it got a bit hair-pulling-despair for me. Especially being so busy over Christmas as well! **

**Anyway, I had a review from Ally about demonizing the country of Israel. I really wasn't trying to demonize the country at all, so I'm really sorry of this story has given anyone the impression of that. I actually think it is a really beautiful country. I know I have made a lot of references to Israel being a direct link to death for Ziva and the baby, but I didn't mean that in a disrespectful way at all. The danger in this isn't from the country, but from Ziva's father. In Israel, Ziva was kidnapped and held hostage for fourteen months by her father, and finding herself helpless because of her pregnancy was what changed her and made her weaker than she was before. It is only her own experiences with Mossad, being brought up into it, being trained personally by her father to be an assassin, that made her want to escape for the sake of her son, especially considering what her father did to influence Ari. She didn't want that life for her son. So, to summarise my rambling, I do apologize to anyone who thought I was bashing Israel, because I never intended for my writing to come across that way, I'm actually quite ashamed that even the one person thought that, so I really do apologize with my hand on my heart. No character in this story, or even myself, hates Israel, they simple hate Ziva's father and want him to be burned for all eternity for what he has done to their friend.**

**Sorry for the long authors note to kick start the chapter, but I really wanted to make that clear.**

_Chapter Seven:_

_**Previously on Save Us:**_

"_Ziva!" he snapped a little._

_She jumped at his voice, nodding as she held the weapon on one hand, her infant son in the other arm. She stood further back in the room, ready to run into the bathroom as ordered as Tony walked down towards the front door. Both of them praying as he inched towards the door…please be Gibbs, please be Gibbs, please be Gibbs…_

She wasn't aware of how tightly she was holding Shai until the baby started to stir in her arms. Instinctively, she loosened her grip, turning her tense muscles to the gun in her other hand instead. Every second that she held it reminded her of how her life used to be, and for a moment it scared her. She was actually afraid to realise that up until the moment she first gathered her newborn son in her arms, she would have felt more at home holding a weapon than a child…she certainly knew which of the two she'd have preferred to hold two years ago. Now, she wished that she could fling the weapon away, if only because her holding it had brought it within range of her child. Instead, however, she gripped it as hard as possible, knowing that in the unthinkable event of Tony's line of defence failing, it was all she had to protect her child.

Tony's took hold of the door handle, waiting for a moment before flinging it open quickly and aiming his weapon at the person on the other side of the door. Ziva stepped back the moment he moved, closer to the bedroom so that she was almost hidden from view. She waited, her eyes tightly shut as she waited on bated breath. However, she heard no gunshots, no sounds of pain…she didn't even hear the discreet sound of a silencer being used. No footsteps, no words, no movement. Nothing. Just silence. Until…

"Relax, DiNozzo, it's just me."

Her shoulders fell several inches in relief, allowing the weapon to drop to the ground at her feet once she had turned the safety back on. Gibbs' voice was a blessing to hear, but her heart was still hammering wildly in her chest as she brought her other arm up to cradle her son with two hands. She gently touched the back of Shai's head, willing her heartbeat to calm in time with his. She kept her eyes tightly closed, realising that her fear was unjustified now, but that the threat on the other side of the door could have been very real. Coming to Tony's she realised, had been possibly the most predictable thing she could have done. Her father may not have paid her much attention since locking her away from the world, but he had observed her. She knew he had. Eventually she had learned to ignore the feeling of being watched, but it was often there in the middle of the night when her son cried for her. Her father would know that she wouldn't have gone straight to her own apartment. Her father would know that she would have gone straight to NCIS instead, where she would have latched on to her child's father and refused to leave his side. Tony would protect her. She knew that her father would know that. She had no doubt that his surveillance would have allowed him to hear the reassuring words she spoke to her newborn son, telling him about his wonderful father who was sometimes a little hopeless but always a brilliant man who would love him and cherish him and be the best father a boy could ever wish for. Her father would have heard that, and would have no trouble tracing Tony's residence. They were probably already on their way…

"Ziva," a soft voice said, a hand coming down on her shoulder slowly. She was startled at the touch, her eyes flying open and her body tensing with a gasp. "Hey, it's just me," Tony assured her, keeping his hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, it's just Gibbs." She nodded silently, and then followed him down the hall when he urged her.

Gibbs instantly noticed the gentle touch Tony had placed to the small of her back as he brought her into the room. He was also no stranger to the burning need to protect Ziva and the child in her arms that his agent's eyes screamed when he looked at her. He was aware that it was ridiculously early in the morning, but he doubted that was anything to do with the fatigue in their eyes. It was obvious that Tony had spent the entire night keeping watch over them, as he had instructed the younger man to do, and that Ziva had found herself adjusting to the change in surroundings still, and was afraid to fall asleep in fear of awaking and discovering her escape was just a dream. Still, while the placement of Tony's hand sent the Rule Twelve alarm bells ringing a warning in his head, he was pleased that the contact seemed to lessen the look of abandoned hope that the Israeli had plastered on her face when she arrived yesterday.

Tony lead Ziva to the couch, and she sat down, adjusting her sleeping son so that his head was cradled against her shoulder as he slept on, oblivious to the previous excitements of the morning so far. Tony then looked to Gibbs. "Boss-"

"Coffee first," he said simply, cutting of his agent. He went into the kitchen, obviously having no intention of letting Tony make his coffee for him. No, he knew his requirements and he knew that no one other than himself and the miracle worker at his favourite coffee branch would meet these standards.

When he had disappeared into the kitchen, Tony crouched down before Ziva. "You want anything?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Could you make Shai some juice?" she asked him. "He will wake soon."

"Yeah, sure," he told her. "Anything for you?"

"Water, please," she told him.

"I'll be back in a minute," he told her, going into the kitchen with Gibbs. The team leader was silent as the kettle boiled, preparing his coffee without making any eye contact or giving any clues towards the nature of his visit. That didn't stop Tony trying to catch his eye or spot any telltale signs emanating from his boss while he mimicked his silence, diluting some of the apple juice from the fridge into one of the feeding bottles Ziva had now put in the kitchen and then pouring her a glass of water.

When they went back into the living room, Tony sat beside Ziva on the couch. He handed her the glass of water, which she drank in one sitting before he put it, and the bottle, onto the coffee table. Gibbs occupied the other side of the coffee table, sitting down on the edge so that he was directly before Ziva, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees. "What's going on, boss?" Tony asked, when it had been silent for some time.

"Ziva," Gibbs said, focusing his attention on grabbing her own. She raised her eyes to him, away from where they had been watching Shai before. "Ziva, at four-thirty this morning, your father arrived at the airport," he told her. Instantly, she sucked in her breath, her entire body stiffening in fear. It was strange to see her usual Mossad-like behaviour come back to her, not in her own defence, but in that of her son. Her free arm flew to rest on the side of the child's head, her arm shielding him from the presence of a man that was not even in the room with them. "He was alone. There were no other Mossad agents with him. We had the airport under surveillance just in case, so he was followed from the moment he left. He came straight to NCIS where he was escorted straight to the Director's office. He's been in there ever since with Director Vance."

"He's here?" Tony asked.

"Tony," Ziva said softly, her eyes moving to him.

It was only with his next movements that she realised how close Tony had been to her to begin with. He only had to put his arm around her shoulders and place a hand over her other arm to be embracing her completely. "It's all right," he told her. "I'm not letting him take you back."

"He is here," she repeated simply. "He has come for us."

"Well, he's not going to get you," Tony said stubbornly.

"DiNozzo's right," Gibbs assured her. "At the moment he's being co-operative. He knows that you would have come to us, and is requesting information from us, rather than your location. What's important is that we act before that co-operation changes."

Unfortunately for them, Eli David's co-operation could have ended the moment Gibbs had arrived on the doorstep, if not before. "He cannot find us," Ziva insisted, sounding as if she were on the verge of hyperventilating.

"He won't," Tony assured her. "What do we do, boss?"

"Go to Ducky's," he instructed. Tony frowned, so Gibbs continued. "It's Christmas day," he reminded them. "This is not a regular case, there is no lab work that needs to be done. Abby's going over first thing, McGee's staying at headquarters with me until we know more. Mossad are aware of you two being partners from a previous surveillance set up on Ziva three years ago," he pointed out, taking them back to the time where Ziva had been framed by the Iranians. "It isn't safe here now that Ziva's father is in the country. Mine is no safer. By the time anything happens, Ducky's house will be filled with federal agents anyway, so it's safer if you go there. Pack things for a few days, we're leaving as soon as you're ready," Gibbs told them, reeling off the information so quickly that it was taking the two a few moments to catch up. When they both sat there, Gibbs spoke again. "Now," he told them.

Tony stood up, waiting as Ziva got to her feet. Both of them went down towards the bedroom, but once there, Ziva stood motionless, watching as Tony pulled out two hold-all bags from underneath his bed. She was still all the time, watching him unload a variety of shirts, undershirts and pants into the bag, toping it up with underwear before moving into the bathroom, taking his deodorant, toothbrush and some other toiletries. Essentials, she noticed. When he was finished, he looked to her, noticing how still she was. "Ziva," he said, as he zipped up the one bag and then opened the other. "Come on, if it's not safe we have to leave."

He started to take the clothes out of the bags that Abby had brought yesterday. It was only then that Ziva realised what Abby had brought. Various amounts of pants and denim jeans went flying into the hold-all, as did plain full-length t-shirts. Several sweaters accompanied them, as did the tiny outfits that Abby had picked for Shai, all blue or a chocolate brown in colour. He left our a pair of pants, a long sleeved shirt and a sweater, handing them to her along with the bag of underwear that Abby had given her from the store. "Here," he told her. "You can shower at Ducky's, but for now just put some clean clothes on."

She nodded numbly, taking the clothes from him. Tony then left the bedroom, going into the bathroom with his own pile of clothes and allowing her the privacy of his bedroom to change. She waited for a moment, until she heard him shuffling around behind the closed door, before placing her sleeping son on the bed and changing into the t-shirt and the new pants. They were a little loose, considering her almost worrying weight loss, but they fit well enough. She was pleased that Tony was alert enough to deal with the situation with the haste that Gibbs required of them. If he hadn't been there, she'd still be sitting on the couch, trying to catch her breath after learning that her father was close by. Yet Tony was there, taking charge, making sure that their things were packed and that they were going on to somewhere safe.

When Tony came back into the bedroom, he brought with him the last of the things they could need from the bathroom, throwing them into the top of his bag. He had changed into a clean pair of jeans and a clean sweater, the one he had put on just before they went to bed now flung over his arm. He was still moving quickly, with purpose, until he saw Ziva standing beside the bed and he stopped. "Ziva," he said simply. "Why aren't you wearing the sweater?"

She shrugged silently. She knew that it was cold outside, and that after being in Israel for so long in the heat she would easily suffer outside in the cold, even just through the quick trip from the apartment building to the car. However, standing in the new clothes felt odd compared to her previous comfort. Yesterday she had arrived in Tony's home, cleaned up in his shower, sat comfortably on his couch, ate in his kitchen, slept in his bed…she had also done most of this in a pair of his sweat pants and a sweater of his. The new clothes didn't have the familiarity of him with them. She reached out and took the sweater she had been wearing before, Tony's sweater rather than the one he had left out for her, and went to tug it over her head. He reached out, taking it from her. "Ziva, you wore that one all yesterday, you slept in it…"

"It is warmer," she justified, looking between the old sweater of Tony's and the brand new one of her own. There was nothing physically wrong with it, the stitching was perfect, the fabric was soft and most importantly, warm. The only fault there was with it was that it was brand new. It didn't feel lived in. It didn't feel warm. It didn't give her the feel of protection that she got from Tony's sweater.

He seemed to realise that this was the reason behind it. Even though he had taken the sweater from her, she still had her fingers clasped around the hem, almost begging him not take it from her. It was almost like a child with a safety blanket. He let go of the sweater, letting it surrender to her delicate grasp. She just looked at it, wondering whether he was actually going to stand there and let her put it back on. However, he didn't. He took of the sweater he had put on only moments ago, and handed it to her. "Here."

She looked at this sweater with a new strangeness in her eyes. In an argument to get her to wear her own clothes, he had ended up giving her more of his own? It was strange, but she wasn't going to fight it. She took the navy sweater, slipping it over her head and adjusting it around herself. It swamped her, just like the previous one had, and though Tony had only been wearing it for a moment it already had his warmth. "Thank you," she whispered to him, a tiny amount of shame in her voice.

"No problem," he told her, rubbing her arms slightly before jumping back into 'action mode'. He looked down at Shai. "If you go through the rest of those bags there's blankets and stuff. Take out everything you need for Shai and I'll get the things from the kitchen," he instructed.

She nodded, checking that Shai was still safely away from the edges of the mattress and that he hadn't rolled closer to the edge in his sleep before going over to the rest of the bags. Tony left the room, something that she still felt nervous about him doing. She still had the nagging feeling that something terrible was going to happen, and the feeling that he would leave the room, promise to be back and never be seen again was something that terrified her, even more so now that she had landed the responsibility of being Shai's father onto his shoulders as well. But she shook this feeling off, trying to gain some of the confidence that she used to have so easily. She thought of her son, her sleeping child lying on the bed, defenceless at six months old. Everything she had done to come back to DC had been for him, so that they could be free of her father and that Shai could know his father. That could not end yet. They weren't free of her father until she knew that they wouldn't be leaving this city for her homeland.

So she took the blankets from the bag, placing on inside the hold-all on the bed and placing another beside Shai on the bed. She took out a few of the toys, not many because of space, making sure that she kept the thread-bare dog out with the blanket. He would not settle without that old toy, one that she had played with as a child. It seemed like an heirloom, which was miniscule in comparison to some, but it was all she had to offer her son, and he had been pleased to play with the toy animal for hours, so she was pleased to allow him. Once she was done with the packing Tony came back, without his bag that was no doubt with Gibbs. "Everything ready?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Yes, I believe so." She hovered over Shai for a moment, wrapping him inside the blanket she had left out so that he would be shielded from the winter cold. She tucked the toy dog into the blankets by his hands, ensuring herself that it would not fall and be lost, before picking her son up and holding him in her arms. She went to pick up the other bag, but Tony took it before her.

"Come on," he told her. "Gibbs is waiting down in the lobby for us."

-----

Despite the situation, Ziva felt guilty imposing on Ducky's doorstep when the sun had barely risen past the horizon on Christmas day. He was a traditional Scotsman, after all, and took tradition as seriously as any of the other team members when it came to Christmas. Tony had informed her on the way over that the were all heading over to the medical examiner's home for Christmas festivities because Ducky had lost his mother to illness earlier in the year, and had been uncomfortable about spending the holidays in the big house on his own. Even Gibbs had assured them that he would be there for dinner, but now that they had the Director of Mossad in the NCIS building, they doubted that Gibbs would show up at all. Shai slept against Ziva the entire journey until they arrived on the doorstep. She knew that her son was hungry, and he had already slept much longer than he usually did. However, she could hardly feed him outside in the cold or in the car, so she simply rocked him against her, reducing his cries until they were simply whimpers.

Tony frowned, looking at the angry red face of his son. His son. That still felt strangely amazing to him. "He okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "He is just hungry."

At that moment, Ducky opened the door, quickly ushering them into the warmth. Shutting the door behind them, he noticed the increase in volume from the baby. "Oh dear," he noted simply. "It seems he is not as pleased today as he was yesterday."

"He is just hungry," Ziva repeated. "He has not been awake long, so he is a little mouchy."

"Grouchy," Tony corrected softly.

"Well, I'll show you to the spare rooms and you can have some privacy to feed the little lad," Ducky offered. "Unfortunately, I can cater to us adults in terms of breakfast, but not the little one, I am afraid."

"Thank you," Ziva smiled, following just behind Tony when Ducky lead them upstairs.

He showed them into one of the spare rooms, and Ziva entered. Ducky looked at Tony, who remained in the doorway for a moment, and then raised an eyebrow at him. "Do I assume there will only be need for one spare room?" the Scotsman asked him, a hint of amusement in his tone despite the reason they were having to stay in the first place.

Tony just nodded, not rising to the teasing about his feelings for Ziva for once. "Yeah, one room's fine, Ducky, thanks."

"You're most welcome, Anthony," Ducky said, before speaking into the room and attracting Ziva's attention. "I will leave you two to your privacy and ensure Jethro is not destroying my kitchen in search of coffee."

Tony was surprised to notice that Ducky had naturally assumed that he would want to stay with Ziva. He looked over at the woman, who was now sat on the side of the bed with her son already feeding from her, which explained the . "You uh…you want me to step out for a sec?" he asked her, his voice distracted as he found himself both confused and amazed at what he was watching.

"No, it is fine," she said simply, not raising her eyes from her son. "He is your son, I do not mind."

Every confirmation that Shai was his son brought a little smile to his lips, but this time it wasn't as broad. He went over and sat beside Ziva on the bed, keeping a little space between them. He'd have thought watching something like this just might ruin every mental image he'd ever have of the particular part of Ziva's anatomy that was in use right now. Instead, he found it completely natural. A woman feeding her son. There was nothing creepy about that. After all, the boy had DiNozzo blood and he was bound to be interested in a woman's breasts, especially when he was so young and there was a connection between breasts and food. But Tony was particularly drawn to the eye contact being held between mother and son. Their eyes were locked, both of them watching each other and not looking away. Tony had noticed that Shai's eyes had darted with every little movement and new source of temporary entertainment yesterday, but right now his eyes were completely focused on his mother, still blinking slowly because he'd barely been awake for five minutes.

When she was done, she readjusted her shirt and reached into the bag beside her for a simple small cloth. She looked at it in her hand for a moment before turning to Tony. "Would you like to wind him?" she asked him, almost cautiously.

"Uh…yeah, sure," he said, taking the child that was offered to him. Ziva placed the cloth over his shoulder, before gesturing Tony to hold Shai so that the baby's head was on his shoulder. She showed him how to gently rub and pat at his back until he was winded. After a few moments, the movement seemed natural to him, and Ziva seemed content to watch Tony and her son. Once again, Shai's hand sought for a hold on him, this time taking hold of the fabric of his sleeve. She smiled a little, not a broad smile but more than she had smiled in the past days. When Shai turned his head on Tony's shoulder, looking at his mother for a moment, it seemed like his eyes were saying 'we're saying here, yes? We're staying here with daddy?' In response to his silent words, she gently stroked the dark hair that now covered his scalp.

"You scared?" Tony asked her quietly. "That your father's here?"

She saw no point in lying. "Yes," she said simply.

"Don't be," Tony told her, raising his eyes to meet hers. "Now he's here, Gibbs will kick his ass and sort this out for good. Then you'll never have to go back to Israel again." She looked away for a moment, and the look in her eyes just before she did terrified him for a moment. "That's the plan, right?" he urged. "You and Shai are staying here, right? With me?"

"Tony, it is not Israel that scares me," she told him. "I have no reason to fear Israel. It is my country. I was born there, I have family there, I have also lost family there. My memories, my childhood…they are all in Israel."

"But your father's also in Israel," he reminded her.

"Yes, and it is he that I am afraid of returning to, not my country. You have to understand, Tony, that my country is very important to me. Israel did not do this to me, Israel did not hurt me, my father did. This is not a fight against my country, this is a fight against my father. Shai's heritage is in Israel, partly. It is in his blood. Just because I do not wish him to become a part of Mossad does not mean I would not like for him to see the country I was born in." She looked at her son, tracing his hair again. "Israel has many beautiful places, Tony. There were times when I was younger that I would despair at what my country had turned into because of wars and disputes, but it is still a beautiful country, and I would happily return there were it not for my father. What has happened will not change my love for my country, only my love for my father." She raised her eyes to Tony's again. "I hope you can understand this."

Tony was quiet for a moment, but he was still nodding at her words, which filled her with more hope than his silence did. "So, uh…" he started, looking down at Shai. "If we're taking him to Israel at some point, you get that we have to take him to Italy too, right? Because my grandmother isn't getting any younger, and she would just love this little guy. Not as much as we do, of course, but in the whole 'finally some younger blood in the family it's about time he had a child' way."

Ziva smiled at his words, and he grinned, leaning his forehead against hers. "Thank you for understanding," she murmured.

"Of course I do," he assured her. "It's just…one time you went to Israel you didn't come back for four months, and the last time…let's just say that I've started to associate you going to Israel with me being without you for way too long."

"Then perhaps you should accompany Shai and myself when we go in the future?" she suggested.

He nodded. "Sounds good."

They were leaning into one another, about to kiss properly for the first time since she had arrived back, when the sound of soft knocking on the door interrupted them.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Hi guys, I really can't tell you how glad I am that not many of you were offended by my portrayal of Israel. Unfortunately, I don't know much about the country other than what I've read in travel books and wikipedia, so my information is limited. Also, I know I've wished a merry Christmas to all my reviewers, but I'd also like to wish a happy Hanukkah to everyone who celebrates it, and a very happy new year to everyone :D**_

_**Previously on Save Us:**_

"_It__'__s just__…__one time you went to Israel you didn__'__t come back for four months, and the last time__…__let__'__s just say that I__'__ve started to associate you going to Israel with me being without you for way too long.__"_

"_Then perhaps you should accompany Shai and myself when we go in the future?__"__ she suggested._

_He nodded. __"__Sounds good.__"_

_They were leaning into one another, about to kiss properly for the first time since she had arrived back, when the sound of soft knocking on the door interrupted them. _

Chapter Eight:

"I do hate to interrupt," Ducky's voice came filtering through the closed door. "But Abigail has just arrived and will not stop bouncing off of the walls until she has seen for herself that Ziva is still here."

The two of them leaned back from each other with a gentle smile. Yeah, that sounded like Abby. Always jumping in at the time just before things would kick off. It was how they ended up sitting on the window seat confessing things in the first place, the night Shai was conceived. After a particularly long case, where things had effected them a little too much with many longing looks and hopeless sighs, Abby had dropped some subtle hints about cooking Ziva to coax her out of her 'Really, I'm fine' phase. Tony looked down at Shai, who was now just contently lying against Tony's shoulder. "Is he uh…is he done?" Tony asked, a little unsure of what he was doing.

Ziva nodded. "Yes," she informed him. "He just looks so comfortable."

"I'd be a shame to move him then," Tony hinted, feeling so comfortable himself that it was a little scary. Two days ago he wouldn't have imagined ever being a father. Of course, the first few days that Ziva was gone, back when he thought she would be back, he knew that they were going to give things a shot with them, and he knew that he cared about her, loved her, in a way that he never had with another woman. He knew that giving things a shot meant that things could progress, and far be it from him to suggest things like marriage and kids, but things happened in life…things like this…things he found himself enjoying, despite the circumstances.

Again she nodded. "He may grow restless soon as he has just fed, but will you hold him in the meantime?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure," he grinned. "I've got six months of this to make up for," he realised.

Ziva was about to feel guilty about this again, until she saw the smile on Tony's lips when he spoke. There was something overly reassuring about the way Tony held her son and smiled at him. The bond between father and son had been one she had been imagining and hoping for since she first had the pleasure of holding her child in her arms, and now that she was finally getting to see it, it seemed the stuff of dreams to her. But still, it was nice, more than nice, it felt like home. Tony stood up, keeping Shai against his shoulder for a moment before moving him to his hip, so that the little boy could now look around him with his usual curiosity. His eyes found Ziva, hovered on her for a moment as if to assure herself that she was coming with them on the journey downstairs, and then he went back to exploring everything around him.

"You okay?" Tony asked, looking at Ziva, who still sat on the mattress.

She stood up, standing closer to him than she realised, but mainly to stroke the soft hair on her son's head, her hand settling on the top of Tony's arm afterwards. "Yes, I am fine," she assured him.

"Really?" he asked, bringing his free arm around to encircle her waist. "Look, we don't have to go down if you don't want to. If you wanna stay up here-?"

"No," she said firmly, nodding her head with a deep breath. "I have missed my friends, and there is something I need to speak to Abby about." He frowned, so she explained. "She…guessed that you were Shai's father yesterday, and I asked her not to say anything."

"She guessed?" he asked, lifting Shai a little so that they were face to face. "Is it that obvious?"

"To me, yes," she nodded.

He just smiled. "I guess she is trained to look for details," he realised.

"She was mad I had not already told you," she explained.

"You've told me now," he pointed out, not wanting her to dwell on anything bad, especially not when it was Christmas. Things may still be shadowed for them, especially with her father now down at the headquarters, but at least on Christmas day, a time of family, they could spend a few hours together, pretending like they hadn't been separated for so long.

--------------

"Ziva! Ziva! Ziva! Ziva! Ziva! Ziva….and _baby_!!!!"

Needless to say, Abby was very excited about Christmas. She knew this from years before, but apparently this year she had taken Christmas Spirit at least twelve steps too far, at least for somebody her age. She fit in well with Ducky's traditionally decorated living room, with all the garlands and ribbons, as well as the log fire burning on one side of the room. In place of her usual gothic attire, she had a more seasonal costume on - costume not being an understatement. In fact, Ziva realised this was the only time she had ever seen Abby wearing white. She had kept her traditional mini-skirt, but instead it was white, and looked suspiciously soft, as if covered in feathers, and a matching white t-shirt with gold tinsel attached to the hem and the sleeves. Of course, she had kept her black biker boots on, but they too had been given a more Christmassy feel to them, no doubt the cause of glitter all over the lobby floor, judging by the amount that had been glued to them. However, the Christmassy touch was lost with the gothic wings that she was wearing, but it was counteracted with the golden tinsel tied around her pigtails.

She came running over to them, meeting them in the centre of the room, and taking the opportunity to throw her arms tightly around Ziva as the baby was still in Tony's arms. Tony, thankfully, had foreseen this and had placed his hand on Ziva's back, which steadied her once her friend hit her full pelt with her embrace. Abby then released her, and stood before Tony, smiling at him. "Merry Christmas, Abs," he smiled back at her.

She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Tony."

She turned and walked away from him, going back over to the armchairs by the log fire. It was then that Tony noticed his arms were empty. "Abs-"

"What?" Abby asked innocent, holding Shai against her. "Ziva had him for six whole months, and you got him all last night…it's _my _turn now!" she defended.

"But-" Tony mumbled, looking helplessly as the little boy he'd been quite happy holding was whisked away from him. "But he's _mine_," he mumbled, so quietly that only Ziva heard his child-like complaint.

"There are plenty of chairs," Ducky pointed out, when he came into the living room to see them both standing there, watching Abby with the baby.

Tony kept his hand on Ziva's back, leading her over to the other armchair opposite where Abby was sitting. She sat down, and he sat on the arm of the chair beside her, putting his arm around her. She curled her legs up beneath her, leaning into his side in a way that made him smile before he leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

"Aww," Abby cooed, having seen the interaction. "You guys are so cute!" She quickly turned her attention back to Shai, talking in baby-language to him. "Not as cute as you are, though. No way. You're the cutest little guy ever. Yes, you are. And you know it, don't you? Oh yeah, I can see that little charmer in there. I told them they'd made beautiful babies. Yes, I did. And would they believe me? That's right, they wouldn't. I bet they believe me now though, don't they?"

Once Abby had turned her attention back to the baby, Ziva made no attempt to move from the position she had put herself in. Here, leaning against Tony, with the roaring fire beside her, she felt so warm and comfortable. So safe. Every second that she spent back around her friends reinforced her decision to come here. She had, one morning, sat and told a three-month-old Shai about his family in America beyond his father, about his Auntie Abby, his Uncle Tim, his Uncle Gibbs. She'd mentioned him as Grandpa Gibbs sometimes, but thought he might not like that. Perhaps she would just let him get older and decide for himself what he was going to call Gibbs. But she had been pleasantly surprised with Abby's reaction. Of course, she knew all along that the Goth would be excited about a baby to play with, but she had feared that for some of them Shai would be a novelty, not a bonus. Yet here they were, watching as Abby paid a hefty amount of attention to the little boy she had dubbed her new best friend. She moved her head, laying it Tony's lap rather than against his side, smiling as Abby told Shai about all the amazing things she was going to teach him. Tony's arm came up, settling on her back and tracing a delicate line up and down her spine.

"Here you are, my dear," Ducky announced, returning to the living room with two cups of cocoa, handing the first to Ziva, who sat up a little in Tony's arms. "This might help fend off the cold from outside. Although, I must say," he continued, looking at the closeness between the couple with a glitter in his eye, "you do look rather cosy."

"Thank you, Ducky," she smiled, taking the mug from him and holding it between her two hands. It's warmth was more comforting than the need to drink it, but she still sipped at it slowly as it cooled. Tony took the other mug from Ducky, and Ziva completely missed the knowing gaze between the two men.

"Has anyone heard from McGee?" Abby asked, looking up at them all suddenly. "'Cause all my presents for you guys are in the back of his car."

"I believe he is still with Jethro at headquarters," Ducky told her. "And I do not need to tell you what he's like once he's got himself a mission."

"They'll be here soon," Abby decided. "They'll get this all sorted and be here in time for dinner."

"I should hope so," Ducky chuckled. "There is enough food here to feed a small army."

"Great, I'm starving!" Abby grinned.

"Go help yourself to some breakfast, Abigail," he told her. "While I spend some time with this delightful young man."

Before Abby could protest, Ducky had taken the baby from her. Ziva let another smile snag her as she felt Tony's sigh. He'd gotten quite comfortable with Shai in his arms upstairs, and she knew that he was feeling the emptiness that she felt whenever she wasn't holding him. Abby got up, looking at the two in the other arm chair. "You guys hungry?" she offered.

"No, thank you," Ziva shook her head.

Tony frowned, looking down at her. "You should eat something, Ziva," he said softly.

"I shall," she assured him. "But for the moment, I am fine, really."

"Okay," Abby nodded. "Tony?" she asked.

"Got any bacon, Ducky?" Tony asked hopefully.

Ducky sighed with a smile. "With you visiting for Christmas, Anthony, I'd have been a fool not to get any."

Tony grinned, and felt Abby tugging at his sleeve. "Come on, you can help," she announced.

Despite his protests to stay with Ziva, Tony found himself being dragged into the kitchen to help with breakfast. He decided that while he was out there he'd at least make Ziva something to eat, knowing that she'd no doubt be hungry as soon as she smelt the food they were making (maybe not the bacon, of course). Having some time with Abby, as well, was something he wanted, given what Ziva had told him earlier. As the friend close enough to be his sister rooted through Ducky's kitchen for food, he just leaned against the cabinets, watching her before he spoke up.

"She told me, you know," he said simply. Abby stopped for a minute. "Come on, I know you know."

"You know that I know what?" she asked innocently.

"About Shai's father," he said. "That's it's me."

Abby sighed. "Thank god, I'm so glad she told you! You're happy about everything, right? I mean, you looked pretty good this morning."

"Yeah," he nodded. "It's…it's really great."

She could see in his smile that he meant it. Okay, he might not be the top contender for potential father of the year, but if he was anything, he was dedicated. "Aww," Abby cooed, like she had done at the baby minutes before. "This is amazing, our first proper NCIS family!"

At that, Tony's smile turned to a saddened on. "Let's uh…let's just get all this sorted first, yeah?" he suggested.

She put her arms around him. "Don't worry," she assured him. "No one's going to let her go back. Gibbs will never let her go, not when her father did all this. She's one of us, Tony."

"I know," he mumbled, inviting the hug that was offered to him. "I just…I can't lose her again, Abs. I just got her back. And to lose her…and Shai as well…I can't go through that again."

Abby had been perhaps the only one who had seen the full extent of what Ziva's disappearance did to Tony. They were, after all, like siblings. Tony had been doing his usual of insisting he was fine, while at the same time making a million phone calls to try and find out if any of his contacts could find anything on her. It had only taken three days of her not returning home when she said she would that all of them had been doing the same, even Jimmy had made phone calls to some of his medical school friends that were working in overseas war zones, checking that they had no Jane Does of Ziva's descriptions, on the off chance that she was on a mission for her father that they hadn't been informed about. But it had been Abby who had gone to his apartment in the middle of the night, making sure that there was no alcohol within reach on the more painful days…days like Christmas and Valentines day, days where she knew that despite the obvious that was always thrown at them, he had a back up plan just in case she returned home. Ziva's birthday more recently, in November, had been a more painful day, even for Abby to watch. It wasn't a special birthday, but she'd let herself into Tony's apartment to find him sitting in his hallway, an undiguisable wreck as the second birthday of Ziva's passed without her being there, the second Christmas approaching fast. She'd sat in the hall with him for hours as he tried to process the unimaginable thought that she might not actually come back to them.

"You won't," Abby assured him. "Even if, God forbid this ever happens, Gibbs doesn't find a way, I know you will. I know you'll find a way to keep her here, even if I have to illegally give you a whole other identity so that you can run off and be free from her father."

The tinsel halo she was wearing itched against his hair, but it couldn't help but add to her good intentions. "You really are angel, Abs," he smiled at her she pulled back from him.

"A hungry angel," she agreed. "Come on, let's get cooking."

Back in the living room, Ziva smiled as Shai curiously grabbed at Ducky's glasses for a fifth time. This time, the elder man managed to move out of the way just before he received another smudged fingerprint over the lenses. "You are a clever young man, aren't you?" he spoke to the baby, who gargled back at him. "And it seems once you're a little older you'll be quite the talker, too."

"He was like that with Tony yesterday," Ziva told Ducky. "Tony was trying to explain Christmas to him, heaven knows why, but it seemed like they were almost having a conversation."

"Yes, Anthony does seem to have bonded with the lad," Ducky observed, catching the softened gaze in Ziva's eye at those words. "And it appears that's exactly what you'd hoped for."

Ziva nodded slowly. "You may ask, if you wish," she told him. "Abby already has."

"I'm not entirely sure I need to," Ducky smiled, narrowly missing another grab for his glasses. He gently poked the end of Shai's nose, watching as the child's eyes followed his finger until he almost went cross-eyed. "His eyes alone give his parentage away. I take it Anthony knows?"

Ziva nodded. "Yes, he knows."

So now Ducky, Abby and Tony knew. If Abby and Ducky had managed to figure it out for themselves, Ziva could only assume that Gibbs had as well. Perhaps that was why he was fighting so hard to prevent her being sent back with her father. The rest of their Christmas morning progressed without any further troubles, much to all their relief. Abby insisted they couldn't open any presents without the others, especially since all the ones she had brought for Ziva and the baby yesterday were still in the back of McGee's car at the Navy yard. So, in the absence of gift unwrapping, she busied herself with becoming the most fabulous auntie she could be. She disappeared at one point, coming back with Shai only moments later with him dressed in a baby reindeer costume. Of course, he looked very sweet, but he hadn't been a big fan of the antlers, which quickly became a chewed mess in his hands. Abby had been so worried that the costume would be ruined that she took the antlers and placed them on Tony's head instead.

Then the camera had come out. None of them had seen her bring this in, so it was a mystery where she was suddenly producing everything from. It wasn't just her personal camera either, it was one of the crime scene cameras that usually sat in her lab. She was lying on her front on the rug, with Shai in front of her doing the same, taking photographs of him. Then she was taking photographs of Ducky with Shai, and most importantly, mommy and daddy with Shai. Yes, she made a big fuss about those photographs.

"It's baby's first Christmas," she justified. "You need lots of photos!"

So Ziva just sat back in the arm chair, her eyes always on her son out of instinct, watching as the little boy enjoyed himself in his new surroundings.

---------

It was almost lunchtime when Gibbs arrived at Ducky's house. Abby had descended upon him almost immediately, holding mistletoe above his head and kissing his cheek in such a flash that it shocked him momentarily. "Is everything sorted out?" Abby asked him, watching as both Tony and Ziva stood to go over to him. Ziva had managed to reclaim her son from his bubbling aunt and was now holding him against her chest.

Gibbs didn't answer with a simple 'yes', which left Ziva with a plummeting feeling in her stomach, particularly when his eyes jumped from her to Tony. He beckoned the younger agent with his finger, indicating for Tony alone to follow him into Ducky's kitchen. As he went, he gave Ziva a reassuring stroke along her back, but she still couldn't help but worry as Abby and Ducky led her back into the living room.

Once in the kitchen, Tony started making his intentions clear. "Ziva's father?" he asked immediately.

"Refuses to leave without her," he said simply.

Tony's face fell. "They haven't gotta go, have they?" he asked hurriedly.

Gibbs had watched the change in Tony's expression, the growing panic in his eyes, and avoided the question. "You really do love her, don't you, DiNozzo?" he realised.

"Is that important right now?" Tony asked stubbornly.

"Yeah," Gibbs nodded.

"Then yeah," he admitted. "Yeah, I love her."

"Do you really love her?" Gibbs tested, feeling cruel for testing but with the situation at hand he needed to know for sure. "Or is it just what you think you're feeling because you know that she has to leave again?"

His heart dropped in his chest, and he couldn't find the strength to breathe all that well. "You mean…she really has to go?" he asked in a tiny voice. Gibbs didn't answer and Tony brought his hands up to his face, holding them there for a moment before exhaling deeply, clearly trying to contain himself before he met his boss's eyes, shaking his head. "No, we can't let that happen. I can't let them go back there."

"DiNozzo-"

"If she goes back with her father she'll never come back alive!" Tony pointed out. "And what about Shai?"

"What about him?" Gibbs asked, continuing his test.

"He's my…" Tony started, but he stopped, and then decided that rule twelve was already shot, so why not admit everything? "He's my son, boss. I'm Shai's father."

"I know," Gibbs told him simply.

Tony went to speak, realised what Gibbs had said, and then frowned. "Did everyone else know before me?" he asked.

"No, everyone else figured it out for themselves," Gibbs pointed out. "You had to be told."

"How?" Tony asked.

"His eyes," he revealed, as everyone's decision had been swayed by. "They're the same as yours."

Tony shook his head slowly. "They can't go back, boss," he said quietly, bracing his arms on the kitchen table to keep him upright. "They're my family. I have to keep them safe now."

Nodding, Gibbs knew that what he was suggesting would work now. "You said you wanted to do something," Gibbs reminded him.

Tony nodded. "Anything."

"Good."


	9. Chapter 9

**Previously on Save Us:**

"_They can't go back, boss," he said quietly, bracing his arms on the kitchen table to keep him upright. "They're my family. I have to keep them safe now."_

_Nodding, Gibbs knew that what he was suggesting would work now. "You said you wanted to do something," Gibbs reminded him._

_Tony nodded. "Anything."_

"_Good."_

Chapter Nine: 

Abby went into a frenzy when Tony and Gibbs came back out of the kitchen some ten minutes later. It had seemed like much longer. In that time, Ziva had said barely three words, all of those had been to her son, who had now fallen asleep in her arms. Ziva looked up when they entered the room, but quickly returned her gaze to the sleeping child. The length of time they had spent discussing things told her that things were bad. Surely if it were as simple as her father handing her over, as it were, then it wouldn't have taken ten minutes of a private conversation with the man who, until that moment, had been given the job of protecting her, and nothing more? She looked down at her son, tracing her finger along his features. So much like her own, yet so much like Tony's. It was no wonder that most of their friends had guessed at first glance.

She kept her eyes on her sleeping boy, watching the sweetness of his peaceful expression. How many nights had that innocence got her through? How many times had she been at her wits end, only to look at how happy her son was, oblivious to the danger they had been in the entire time? She didn't look up until she was forced to, feeling a gentle hand raise her head so that she was now looking directly into Tony's eyes. He had pulled a footstool over, so that he was now right in front of her, and it was then that she noticed the Ducky, Abby and Gibbs had left the room. Her heart sank. This seemed a little like they were giving Tony the job of delivering the bad news.

"Ziva…" he started, his voice breaking off with a shake in it, but it was a shake of nervousness, rather than a shake of pain.

"My father wishes me to return, yes?" she assumed.

"Yeah," he answered honestly, his voice quiet now that he saw their son was sleeping peacefully.

She shut her eyes, taking a deep breath to fight off the tears the gathered. No, she could not break down. Her son needed her to be strong. She would not break down while her son needed her. "Then I must go," she decided.

"No," Tony croaked out, horrified at the possibility.

"Promise me you will take care of our son," she asked him softly.

"No. No, Ziva, open your eyes," he told her, bringing his hand up to the side of her face, cupping her cheek in his palm. She opened her eyes, looking into his. "I won't let you go again," he promised her. "Yes, I promise you that I'll take care of our son, but we'll be doing it together because I'm taking care of you as well, all right? You're not going anywhere."

She laughed, but the sound was bitter, dying in her throat. "Gibbs did not take you into the kitchen for some privacy just to reassure you, Tony," she pointed out. "This is more complicated than that."

"Yeah, it is," he agreed. "But we've got a way out of it."

At that, hope started to rise again. Those were the words she had needed to hear since she first arrived back. "You have?"

Tony nodded. "You want to stay here, right? With me? The three of us?"

She copied his nod. "Of course."

"Then we can fix this," he told her, giving her a smile, even though his voice still sounded nervous, as if he were afraid to tell her what the idea was. "And we can fix this today."

"Today?" she asked, overwhelmed at the idea that by this evening, it could all be over.

"Yeah, but like…soon," he said, looking at the clock and seeing that it was already gone midday. "Basically, your father refuses to leave without you. Director Vance is stalling him for as long as possible so that we can do this. SecNav is even involved in this now. Gibbs has called in some favours, McGee's found someone who'll do it for us, all we've got to do is be there."

"Be where?" she asked.

"City Hall," he said.

She frowned. "City Hall?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Your father's got a return plane ticket and everything, we have to find a legal way of keeping you in the country before he finds you."

"What is it that we have to do?" she asked.

"Well, you might not like it, but it really is our only legal option without going underground with new identities, which…isn't really that legal, but Abby did offer-"

"Tony," she cut him off, taking his hand from her cheek and clasping it in one of her own, holding it tightly. "Tell me what I have to do, and I shall do it," she told him.

He looked into her eyes, bringing their entwined hands to his lips so that he could place a kiss on her knuckles, then he traced his other hand over Shai's sleeping head. Then, he shifted his attention back to Ziva. "Ziva, the fact of the matter is that I love you. Proper, real love that I've always been scared of. I realise now that love isn't nearly as scary as the thought of never seeing you again. So in a really messed up, weird and completely unconventional way, I'm asking you to marry me."

She stared at him blankly for a moment, whilst he tightly held her hand within his. "You are serious?" she asked him after a moment.

He nodded. "I don't know why none of us thought of it sooner. Your son has American blood, even though he wasn't born on American soil. And if you're married to an American citizen, you can't be forced to leave the country even by your father. And since your father terminated your contract with Mossad when he…when he did what he did to keep you hidden, he can't recall you as part of your contract, either."

"Tony," she breathed, completely overwhelmed now. "Tony, this is a huge decision…"

"I know," he smiled. "Why do you think we were in the kitchen for so long?"

She went to speak again, but she was cut off with a pair of lips against her own. Kissing Tony had seemed more of a dream than a memory, and if she hadn't had Shai as a living proof of their night together, there were nights when she'd have thought it had never happened. Now, here she was, with him proposing marriage to keep her at his side, with their son, and he was kissing her. His hand was back at her cheek again, his thumb gently smoothing her skin while his lips caressed hers. When he pulled back, he kept his forehead against her own, revelling in the sensation of her breath against his lips.

"I know that this huge," he murmured. "Massive, actually, but it's our only shot, Ziva. If you want, this can just be on paper and we can go back to how everything was before. I just…I can't let you go. I can't accept knowing that there's a chance I might not get to see you again. I love you too much to see you go, and this is our chance to stop that happening. You came here to bring Shai to his family, and he can have that, Ziva, you both can, if we take this chance." He pressed his lips to hers quickly once more, the sweet taste he had missed now seeming like a drug to him. "Can't you see why I have to do this?" he asked her in a whisper.

"Yes," she nodded. "But marriage? Tony…"

"No obligations," he assured her quickly. "No expectations. Just me, you and Shai. Us."

"Us," Ziva repeated breathlessly.

"If you'll still want to give us a try," he nodded.

Her free arm that wasn't holding the baby wrapped around his neck, bringing him close to her. He heard her answer in a whisper, feeling the word against the skin of his neck in a way that made him smile. He put his arms around both her and the baby, holding them both close to him, the woman he loved and the child she had bore him.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear. "I fell for you a long time ago, and I fell for our son the first time I held him, before I even knew he was mine," he admitted. "I'd be a fool if I let you both out of my life."

Ziva looked up, staring into his eyes with an intensity that reminded him of the Ziva she had been before she had left, a determination in her eyes that he hadn't seen for a long time, and it made him smile. "Let us do this, yes?"

"Yeah," he nodded, kissing her once more. "Let's get married."

A/N: Just a small chapter, I know, but I felt this part deserved it's own chapter. A lot of you saw this coming, and I think we all knew it was all going to happen. After all, I'm me, and I'm a sucker for fluff and squiffyness. Sooo…who wants an invite to the wedding :P


	10. Chapter 10

_**Previously on Save Us**_

_Ziva looked up, staring into his eyes with an intensity that reminded him of the Ziva she had been before she had left, a determination in her eyes that he hadn't seen for a long time, and it made him smile. "Let us do this, yes?"_

"_Yeah," he nodded, kissing her once more. "Let's get married."_

Chapter Ten:

The team were gathered outside city hall, the majority of them, at least. McGee and Abby sat at the bar silently, the Goth gripping tightly to 'her' geek's arm as if afraid that, should he let go, they would be separated in the way that Tony and Ziva had been. Ziva observed the two, wondering just how much their relationship had developed while she had been gone. The two had always had an undeniable chemistry, one that was apparent to everyone around them if not themselves. Perhaps they had embraced the connection now? She hoped they had. It was obvious that the two of them would be so happy together, if they could only get over their pride and admit that they were madly in love with one another. She fought the urge to smile at that thought. It seemed the two were possibly more stubborn and in denial than her and Tony had been…at least they had discussed their feelings and done something about them the night before she left for Israel. She pleased to see that their friendship, if nothing else, had remained strong; that much was clear from the way that McGee made no move to remove Abby's tight grip from his bicep, even though it was clearly cutting of a considerable amount of circulation.

Shai shuffled in her arms, clearly having no intention of sleeping through the coming events like she thought he might. Clearly the excitement of the day was keeping him awake, which at least meant he would get a good night's sleep. Chances for a lie-in were something that used to be a rare pleasure to her, only occurring when there was no work and when she chose not to go for her run in the morning, but she had not had one in at least…well, she'd slept a little longer than usual the day she went to Israel, because she knew she would be too busy packing to go for a run. However, packing had been rushed anyhow because of allowing herself the extra two hours in bed with Tony's arms around her. Perhaps if Shai decided not to sleep this afternoon, she would get an extra hours sleep in the morning before she woke.

Her eyes clapped on a young couple, laughing with each other as they exited one of the rooms further up the hall. The young woman was wearing a white dress, not an elaborate wedding gown, but a simple white dress. It was obvious that the two had just gotten married. It seemed a shame that a couple so young had no friends or relatives there with them to witness the blessed event, especially when she considered herself so lucky to be standing with her friends. With Abby, who had done nothing but jump up and down with excitement since the moment Tony revealed Gibbs' plan for them. With McGee, who had taken a moment with Ziva to wish her all the best, and assure her that although they hadn't had much of a chance to talk since she returned he was ecstatic and relieved to have her back. In turn, she had thanked him for remaining with Gibbs, knowing that McGee's dedication was never something that could be second guessed. He was loyal to his friends, and she was pleased to know that he was helping Gibbs with whatever they had been doing.

The young couple disappeared around a corner, the first steps towards their new life together. That would be her soon. That would be her smiling. A lot could be said in a smile, she thought, looking towards the doors that the short ceremony would be held behind. Her smile would tell of her relief, of her freedom from fourteen months of pain and suffering. Her smile would be looking forward to a new life, one with a family that actually felt like a family. Her blood family had done nothing but fail her over and over, and where it had not failed her she had failed it. Tali. Tali was a real daddy's girl, her father's pride and joy. Nothing bad would ever happen to his youngest daughter, he would brag, and instead Tali had been the first of them to die. Tali had been the least deserving of such a horror, and it had befallen her all the same, the victim of somebody's 'greater good'. Her younger sister would be horrified to learn what her father had done. She probably would not have believed her father was capable of something like this…she had barely believed it herself. It was only when her pregnancy had progressed so far that it was ridiculous to consider escaping or fighting back that she accepted what was happening to her.

But that didn't matter now. She was back in Washington, back with her friends, her family. Tony would be her real family now, too. Tony was going to be the knight in shining armour in this story. She had returning, and he had kept her safe long enough to find out a way to keep her safe once and for all. It was strange how at first, when they began working together, she had found herself irritated by every little thing that he did, but somehow he had manage to crawl beneath her skin, and she didn't want to escape the feeling he gave her. She wanted to experience it every waking second, to see that look in his eyes, the look of emotion that he'd hide from everyone else, and know that it was all for her. She wanted to remain in love with him forever.

Since she was young, she was raised to see love as a weakness. Love was something that caused you pain when your loved one was killed in action, or just killed shopping in the market. Love was something that interfered with professionalism. Love was a distraction. Love was something that she could not allow to enter her life, because of what ruins it would leave in its absence. Love, she had been told countless times, is not a fairy tale. That was what she had learned by the age of ten, shortly after her mother had been killed in an air strike and she had watched her father attempt to move on from her death. She always referred to it as an attempt, because as far as she was aware, he had never gotten over her mother's demise. Whenever her name was mentioned his eyes would darken in a way that scared her, and sometimes she wondered whether that was the only reason he remained fighting as much as he did. But now, having slowly built up a dysfunctional relationship with Tony, she realised that she was willing to risk it all, despite the pain. Even if Tony had always been part of the disaster more often than he was part of the solution, she still wanted him. She wanted the everyday. She wanted her son to grow up, seeing his father and knowing that he was thinking about him and not his ridiculous obsession with work.

She shifted Shai to her other arm with a mild impatience. Where was Tony? He had left with Gibbs sometime ago, leaving a quick kiss and a promise that he'd be right back. Forty minutes, that had been. She had changed at Ducky's, abandoning the comforting sweater of Tony's and opting for one of the other outfits that Abby had rescued from her apartment once she learned they were getting married. Abby had gladly presented her with an old green dress. Well, it wasn't particularly old, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. She had smiled when she'd seen it, remembering the last time she had worn it. The undercover mission. Jean Paul and Sophie Ranier. The green dress that had pooled at her feet when Tony released the tie around the waist. Abby said that she had picked it because although the pregnancy had caused her to gain weight, the near starvation after had still caused her to lose that weight, and more, and the other dresses in her closet would hang loosely from her because of this. With the waist tie, this dress would fit her figure, and she had to admit that for the first time since she had fallen pregnant with Shai, she appreciated the curves that carrying him had given her once they were glad in the green silk. She had seen Tony's eyes light up when he saw her wearing it.

"Where is he?" she whispered aloud, hoping that he would come around the corner and answer that question himself. "He should be here by now, where is he?"

"He'll be here," Abby assured her, keeping her voice bubbling. "You know how he feels about you, and you being back here. He's not going to let you go again. He'll be here," she repeated, for good measure.

She went over to one of the chairs in the hall they were waiting in, sitting down and closing her eyes. She felt Shai curl up in her arms, settling his face by her hair. She was suddenly overwhelmed by a terrible feeling, a horrible fear that something had happened to keep Tony, that her father had gotten to him. If her father had gotten to Tony, then all hope was gone. Her eyes stung with withheld tears at this thought. If something had happened to Tony, then there was no way of keeping her here…Shai's father might be an American citizen, but that was no help to them if he was dead, surely? And how else would she be allowed to stay if something happened to him? She couldn't marry a dead man.

She knew that if her father had gotten to Tony, then death would be certain. He wouldn't even try to attempt to use his life as leverage over her. Once he had discovered that Tony had been the father of his grandson, her father had always promised that if she returned to Tony he would be killed. There would be no slow and torturous end to get her to return to him. No, he knew that she would expect that. She knew the methods of her father's evils, and while he was more then capable of using the most spirit-crushing methods to not only end a man's life, but also destroy the hearts of all those who love them. Her father would simply destroy Tony with a single bullet, probably simple enough so that he never even saw the end coming, and then he would even have the stomach to smile at his daughter. He would do that, just to hurt her, just because she disobeyed him. She only hoped that he hadn't already done this.

And just when she was about to give up hope, there was someone. A pair of hands appeared on her arms, trailing up and down them before one hand settled on the side of her face. She felt exhausted suddenly, and didn't bother to try and fight off whoever it was that was raising her to her feet. Right now, somebody could put her in a car going over a cliff and she wouldn't try to fight them off, especially not these hands. She knew those hands. She knew the jacket that her face was pressed up against. She knew that aftershave. She knew the feeling of her hair brushing up against a small lining of stubble, a five o'clock shadow that she was more than used to seeing and taunting over. She knew the sensation of the hands rubbing the top of her arms. She knew how it felt to be in those arms. She knew. She knew who it was.

"I'm here," she heard him whisper. The stubble was removed from the top of her hair, replaced with a pair of lips. "You okay?"

Placing one hand on his chest, keeping hold of the baby with her other, she raised her head from his shoulder so that she could look into his eyes. "Tony," she murmured. "I thought something had happened-"

"Something has happened," he told her softly. Her relieved smile at him being there disappeared. "Don't worry," he assured her, cupping her face. "It's nothing bad."

"What is it?" she asked him.

"Your father came alone," he reminded her. "But somebody followed him."

"Who?" she asked. Thoughts of some of her old partners, ones who had survived long enough to go on to more dangerous skills than coercion and interrogation, following her father. If her father was being distracted by NCIS, he would have no doubt called his most trusted agents, surely?

"Somebody who loves you," he told her, destroying the previous fears. "Somebody who wants to be here for you today, and from now on. Somebody who came here straight away the second she realised you were alive."

"She?" she asked softly.

Tony nodded. "Yeah." He stepped back and taking Shai into her arms, allowing her to see beyond him to where Gibbs was standing with the others. He wasn't alone, however.

Within seconds, Ziva was engulfed in a warm embrace. A soft pair of arms that she remembered from long ago. Like Tony's previous hold, she recognised the arms all too well. These arms had held her at the young age when her mother had passed. These arms had comforted her in the nights where she allowed herself to fall apart as her father trained her to hide her heart. This woman who held her had always encouraged her not to lock away her emotions. She had told Ziva that her mother would be proud of her even when her father was too ashamed to look at her. Feelings these arms around her after so long restored more of the hope that her team were trying to give her back. She returned the hug, feeling tears spilling onto her cheeks as the woman held her. The arms were frailer than she remembered, although the age was the cause of that no doubt. It did nothing to reduce the force of the embrace, however.

"Oh, my Ziva," the woman whispered, just as emotional as she was. She pulled back, allowing herself to see the young woman before her. "My Ziva, tateleh…"

"Aunt Nettie," she whispered back, smiling.

"_My Ziva_," she kept repeating. "You are alive…"

Ziva smiled, tears running down her face freely as she nodded. She couldn't find any other words to say.

"He told me…your father told me you were dead…that you were killed…" she wept. "Yet you are _alive_…my darling girl is _alive_." Nettie embraced her once more, holding Ziva to her as if she were a child. "I would _never _have allowed him to do this to you, tateleh. I would not have allowed this to happen. If I had known you…the whole time you were so close by…so many hours I spent searching for you and your father would tell me…I would have taken you from him, tateleh. I would have protected you _and _your child. Your mother would be _furious_ of me to allow this to happen…"

Tony stood by, remaining close but not immediately beside them as Ziva was reunited with her aunt. Gibbs had also told him in the kitchen hours before that Nettie David had arrived at NCIS, looking for her niece. She told Gibbs that Eli David had told her that Ziva was killed in action, during the undercover mission that she had never gone on because of her pregnancy. Once she had learned that her niece was still alive she had gone searching for her in the one place she would have gone for safe harbour. Now, she wanted to see her niece, to apologize for not doing more to find her, to help her, and they were all too happy to allow that.

"My beautiful niece," Nettie soothed, as Ziva clung to her. "My _beautiful_, _strong _girl…" she trailed off, observing her niece's face for a moment. "_Woman_," she corrected herself. "You are a woman now."

"I have been a woman for many years, Auntie," Ziva choked out.

"You are a mother now, tateleh," Nettie pointed out, drawing Ziva's gaze over to where Tony stood with Shai tucked against him. "And regarding this, I should like to meet the little one who gave you so much hope."

Ziva nodded, and Tony approached with the baby. He handed her over, and Ziva turned him in her arms so that Shai's back was against her chest. This gave Nettie the chance to observe the child. She stroked her older, more fragile hand over Shai's dark hair as the little boy looked at her in a similar interest. "His name is Shai," Ziva told her. "Shai Chayim David."

"A gift of life," Nettie translated. "A wise name for such a child."

"Yes," Ziva nodded.

Nettie mumbled to herself, which Ziva knew to be a Hebrew curse word. "How could your father see this blessing as a reason for darkness?" she asked herself. "Such a beautiful child should be celebrated, treasured by _all_, especially his family."

"And he shall be," Ziva told her. "His family goes no further than the ones who will love him. My father is no longer a part of my son's family, auntie."

"I should hope not," Nettie insisted. "It does not say much for your father's view on international relations if he cannot see a child as a blessing, no matter what country his parentage is from." Shai started to gurgle, as if joining in the conversation. Nettie's frown turned into a fond some. "Oh, how your mother would _laugh_, Ziva," she suddenly mused. Ziva looked at her, a little confused. "When you were first born, she wished that you would be strong-willed, that you would speak your mind and never need a man to define you as she sometimes saw herself with your father. She got her wish. Even before you could speak you would make sounds like this. Always with your father. You would always sound like you were arguing back to him." At this, Nettie looked to Tony, who still stood by Ziva's side. "You should prepare yourself, young man. If this child has his mother's spirit you shall not get a chance to rest until he is a grown man."

Tony looked at his son, and then at the woman who was about to become his wife. "Yeah, I was kinda hoping he'd get her spirit," he smiled.

"Now," Nettie announced abruptly. "We have a wedding to celebrate, yes? I have brought the glass and-"

"You brought a _glass_?" Tony interrupted.

Nettle gave him a look of warning. "Do not interrupt me, boy," she told him. "You may be the father of my niece's son, but you have not proven yourself to me as you have to her."

Gibbs appeared beside them, giving Tony a head-slap. "Jewish wedding customs end with the groom breaking a glass underneath his foot."

Tony took this in slowly. "Is that to show that this is the last chance I'll get to ever put my foot down?" he asked.

"Yes," both Gibbs and Nettie told him shortly.

"And there is a phrase you should also say, when you give Ziva her ring," Nettie told him. "_Harei at mekudeshet li k'dat Moshe V'Yisrael_."

Tony frowned again. "Could you write that one down for me?" he asked.

Nettie looked to Ziva. "Ziva, tateleh, at least you shall teach your son Hebrew, yes?" she tried to assure herself.

"Yes, auntie," Ziva smiled softly. "And Tony also."

"Oh, no," Nettie shook her head. "He would not wish to hear what I have to say about him."

Tony opened his mouth to say something, but Gibbs quickly head-slapped him again. "She's a David woman, DiNozzo," he remind him. "You know what it's like to argue with them."

"Ziva and I don't argue," Tony corrected. "We disagree."

"You _bicker_," Nettie then corrected him. "Like school children."

"How did you-?"

"I would not question her sources," Ziva told him. Shai began to fuss, and Ziva placed her arms around him more securely, turning him into her. "Please, tateleh," she whispered to him. "Try to sleep."

"He okay?" Tony asked, when Shai continued to grizzle.

"He is just tired," Ziva assured him. "He should have slept by now, but I think the excitement is keeping him awake."

Tony stroked his head. "No wonder," he mused. "It's not every day your mom and dad get married. Speaking of which, Shai's not the only one excited. Can we get married now?"

She knew that his haste to get married wasn't just because of his excitement. Being married to her didn't just mean being her husband, it meant he was able to keep her. It meant that she was allowed to stay there. It meant that he was actually doing something within his power to keep her there, which is what he wanted. She'd turned up and asked him specifically to save her and their son, and from the second she asked him that he'd been told to protect them and watch over them while Gibbs and the rest of the team did the actual saving. Now he was the one doing the saving. He was the one who was doing the biggest possible thing that a man of his nature could do, all in the name of keeping his family safe.

And she couldn't help but wonder, as she nodded to his request, whether there were any other ways in which she wanted to saved, other than the way he was offering.

A/N: Bringing Nettie in was something that I thought of literally last minute. Hopefully I've written her well. Not all of Ziva's family are monsters like her father, and from the phonecall in season five I always got the feeling that they were close. Anyway, the Hebrew phrase she mentioned translates as You are consecrated to me, through this ring, according to the religion of Moses and Israel. Sorry if I've got any Jewish customs wrong, but I've done all my research via wikipedia - so please let me know if anything's wrong!


	11. Chapter 11

**I know that this is a short chapter, but after making you wait so long I figured that anything was better than nothing, right? A big thank you to M E Wofford on this chapter, for telling me about both her wedding and her daughter's weddings, you have no idea how much your input helped me to write this chapter. **

**Previously on Save Us**

_She knew that his haste to get married wasn__'__t just because of his excitement. Being married to her didn__'__t just mean being her husband, it meant he was able to keep her. It meant that she was allowed to stay there. It meant that he was actually doing something within his power to keep her there, which is what he wanted. She__'__d turned up and asked him specifically to save her and their son, and from the second she asked him that he__'__d been told to protect them and watch over them while Gibbs and the rest of the team did the actual saving. Now he was the one doing the saving. He was the one who was doing the biggest possible thing that a man of his nature could do, all in the name of keeping his family safe._

_And she couldn__'__t help but wonder, as she nodded to his request, whether there were any other ways in which she wanted to saved, other than the way he was offering._

Chapter Eleven:

After everything had been so difficult so far, getting married had been surprisingly easy. A civil wedding, Ziva learned, was far less complicated and much quicker than a 'normal' wedding. She could see why this method was steadily becoming more popular in the modern world. Gibbs disappeared to speak to the judge, who had sentenced many of the criminals that Gibbs had caught. Ziva had met with this judge only once, having to give evidence at a case where she had been injured by the suspect, and she had heard the judge joke after the hearing that he would be practically out of work were it not for Gibbs. With the team's steady supply of case solving, it was obvious that the judges were pleased, if not just to get these people off of the streets. Perhaps this was why the judge was so lenient with them. Ziva wasn't stupid, she knew that the only place you could get married as quickly as they had planned to was Las Vegas, and that's certainly where they weren't. Once she'd brought this up, McGee had explained that technically they couldn't get married this fast.

"Thanks, Probie, you gotta ruin the moment?" Tony had snapped at him upon hearing this. He was still standing beside Ziva, who still held their son to her chest, with her aunt stood beside her.

"I didn't mean it like that," McGee assured him afterwards. "I'm just saying that it wouldn't usually happen this fast."

"Nothing about this is usual," Tony reminded him.

"Exactly. Do you realise how many strings Gibbs had to pull to make this happen today?"

"Yeah, I know," Tony said quietly.

Ziva had looked up at this. "What did Gibbs have to do?"

McGee turned away from Tony, directing his words to her instead. "Even with city hall weddings, you're supposed to have handed in a notice of the marriage at least fifteen days before the wedding."

"But we don't have fifteen days," Tony pointed out. "I doubt we even have fifteen hours."

That thought chilled them all, but McGee continued. "Gibbs had to find a judge that would forget that, which wasn't easy, and then find a judge that would conduct and authorise the ceremony of Christmas day. Luckily, Judge Halen offered."

Ziva nodded, making a mental note to thank this man afterwards. "What else will happen?" she asked. "I have never been to a civil wedding before."

"It's pretty simple, actually," Abby smiled. "You have to confirm that your name and the information on the marriage authority form is right, and they'll make you pay for it. Then everyone sits down and the ceremony starts. You can do the entrance on someone's arm if you want to, but you don't have to. Then you both declare that there's no lawful reason why you can't get married, you say vows and can do rings if you want, and you sign the register in front of your witnesses." Everyone looked at her strangely. "What?" she asked innocently. "My aunt had a city hall wedding last summer."

Ziva just nodded, slowly taking the process in. It seemed very fast, and very different from the lavish Jewish wedding traditions she was used to. She had been to very few weddings in her life, but all had been in Israel. She had never planned to marry herself, but as a child she had always imagined that if she did, it would be in the same traditions as her faith, the same that her elder cousin had followed. Nettie's daughter, Shani, had been a beautiful bride when she had married. Ziva remembered standing by the canopy, Shani and her husband both sipping from a family heirloom goblet filled with wine. Ziva remembered asking her mother what it meant, and her mother explaining that it symbolised a new, shared life. She remembered Shani's husband breaking the glass underneath his foot. She remembered the ketubah, and the laying out of the rights of the wife and the obligations of the husband. However, she didn't remember their meaning, not from that wedding. She remembered them from a friend's wedding many years later. At the time of Shani's marriage she had not been old enough to understand the Aramaic words that the ketubah was written in.

It seemed strange now, after watching such extravagance, to think that her own wedding would be more of a legal process than a loving ceremony. She was fairly certain that Tony had no vows prepared, and she certainly didn't know what to say herself. The past twenty-four hours, on top of the past fifteen months, had been a whirlwind of time for her, and this was going to end it. Speechless wasn't a strong enough word to describe the state she was in. Who was even going to pay for this wedding? She had no money, as she'd used all her own to pay for the flight and then further transportation to the navy yard. She had no idea how much a city hall wedding cost, but like any wedding, it could not be cheap, surely? What about rings? They didn't have rings, there was no time to go shopping. If they'd had time to go shopping, she'd have been wearing a dress more suited for a wedding, and Tony would be wearing a smarter outfit than the jeans and black dress shirt he was wearing beneath his jacket. All they would have as proof of their union was a piece of paper with their signatures on it.

"Ziva?"

Tony's voice broke her out of her thoughts, and she snapped her face up to his. "Yes?" she asked quietly.

"You're still okay with this, right?" he checked.

She nodded. "Just as I was a few minutes ago," she assured him.

"You sure?" he checked again. "You look kind of … doubtful," he noted.

She reached one hand out, still holding Shai with the other, and put it against Tony's chest. Reacting instantly, he put one hand on her elbow and the other on her waist. "I am going to marry you, Tony," she said simply. "We are going to be married, and you will have saved us," she told him.

"And if there were any other way?" he asked her, doubt still clouding his mind.

"I would not wish to hear of it," she smiled gently.

At this, he leaned down, about to touch his lips to hers when a hand reached out and slapped his upper arm. "No more of that!" Nettie scolded him. "Not until this wedding is over," she said, pointing her finger at him.

"Okay, okay!" he said, holding his hands up. However, he leaned down and placed his lips against Shai's head. Ziva smiled, she hadn't yet seen this tenderness between Tony and Shai before. He then looked at a scowling Nettie. "You said I couldn't kiss Ziva," he reminded her. "You never said I couldn't kiss our son." She shook her head, mumbling in Hebrew. Tony looked to Ziva. "Translation?" he asked.

She shook her head. "You would not wish to know," she told him, with a tug of amusement in her smile.

"We're ready," Gibbs announced, calling with his head poked around one of the doors.

------

The whole thing took less than ten minutes. It surprised her really. Any wedding she had been to had always seemed to drag on for hours, usually because her feministic side had despised the idea of her friend or relative becoming entirely dependable on a man, knowing that from that moment on they had duties other than those of their service to their country. Perhaps that was because she had never loved a man as much as she had loved her country. With Tony, this was different. She knew that she loved him, and she knew that he loved her in return, and what he was doing for her with this ceremony was enough to convince her of that. He was willing to halt his life and everything he would usually do to keep her safe. To keep her and Shai safe. He was abandoning his own practices just to keep them by his side.

Having the best man and the maid of honour wasn't a necessity in civil weddings, as she had learned from Abby, yet nevertheless Tony and Ziva did not stand alone before Judge Halen. Abby stood slightly behind her as the maid of honour, McGee in a similar position behind Tony as the best man. In the thankful absence of her father, Ziva was escorted to Tony's side by Gibbs and her aunt Nettie, who had taken Shai in her arms so that Ziva's hands could be joined with the man she was about to marry.

But she barely remembered a thing.

She was so nervous, so terrified that her father would come through on his word and prevent anything like this happening, that she only held on to snippets of what should surely be the greatest day of her life. She remembered Judge Halen explaining the legal basis of marriage, and then nodding with numb words as she and Tony both made assurances that they were legally free to marry one another. Thankfully, what her fathers dispute with her was, was not a legal impediment to the marriage, so she never had to mention the horrors of her father's confinement to the judge. She wondered whether he might be able to do something about it, but as long as she was married to Tony, which prevented her from leaving the country by force of her father, she had all that she needed; safe harbour and a loving family for her son. There were no rings to exchange, as there was no way they would gain access to a jeweller on Christmas day, no matter what the circumstances, but when the judge explained this, Tony had blurted out that he would get her one, so that if nothing else, she knew that this day was real. She repeated after the judge whatever he ordered her to say, as did Tony, and then that was it. It was over.

They were married now, legally bound to one another by love and law. Her hand shook as she leaned over the register, signing her name on the line where her name had been printed. Gibbs and Abby had offered themselves as witnesses, with the Goth eagerly bounding over as second witness before anyone else could even offer themselves. She justified snatching the pen from Judge Halen's hand by telling him that she had been trying to get the pair to admit their feelings for years now, and that this day was quite possibly more precious to her than it was to the bride and groom. The judge had laughed at this and pushed the paper closer for her to sign, frowning a little when he noticed that the 'I's in her name had been dotted with miniature skull and crossbones. Before the pens could be abandoned, however, Judge Halen presented them with two more forms form them to sign: change of name forms, one with Ziva's name, one with Shai's. Ziva had stared at them for a moment before hastily singing her name and watching with a pounding heart as Tony did the same. As soon as the judge added his signature as well, it was official, and they left City Hall with their new family.

Anthony James DiNozzo, Ziva Elisheva DiNozzo, and Shai Chayim DiNozzo.


	12. Chapter 12

**I know I haven't written this for a long time (don't hate me) but I knew that the next chapter was going to be the last one and I really didn't know how to end it. So, here it is, the last chapter of Save Us. I really can't thank you enough for all of your wonderful reviews and comments. It really touched me to see how much you enjoyed this story. Hopefully you'll be pleased to know that I am working on a sequel of about the same length set further along down the line, and that this will be posted up really soon as I've already got the entire story plotted out and draft scripted, so it just needs typing up. Thank you so much to everyone who has reviews, favourited or even just read this story! I can't tell you how much fun I had writing it and I hope you enjoy the sequel.**

Chapter 12

Somebody had once told him that a wedding was one of the most memorable moments he'd ever experience. He didn't doubt that, not in the slightest. There was nothing he'd forget about the last minute small-scale wedding, and he'd hate to think that there was any tiny detail that might slip his mind. He didn't care that there was less than ten people in attendance, and that included the judge who was marrying them, all he cared about was that Ziva was now, officially his wife, and that Shai officially bore the name of his father. They were officially DiNozzo's on paper now, and just looking at the paperwork brought a smile to his face. He understood how much of an incredible miracle it was that they had managed to have this paperwork in front of them, signed and finalised in a day, and he wasn't going to take it for granted, although he would find out everyone involved. These signatures had saved Ziva and Shai's life, potentially, and he wanted to find out every single person who had a hand in helping them so that he could personally thank them.

He regretted only one thing, however, and that was that he couldn't give Ziva the elaborate wedding affair that he'd always imagined he'd give her. But even though their wedding was little more than a civil gathering that took no longer than a few minutes, to the two of them, it meant the world.

The group retired back to Ducky's house, where they had been gathered less than an hour before. The only addition to the original party was the fact that Gibbs stayed, and that Nettie had opted to join them, insisting rather persistently that she would not miss a second more of her niece's life. Once there, they tucked into the Christmas feast that had been prepared and left to warm while they were gone. There was no set seating arrangement around the dining table like there would be at any other wedding, no hassle of arranging friends and family so that no disagreements would break out and ruin the day. Instead, everyone arranged themselves. Ducky sat at the head of the table, with Gibbs on his right. Abby and McGee, predictably, sat beside one another, Abby only just having the heart to abandon the photographs she was taking of the new family to eat her meal. Nettie sat opposite the pair of them, watching fondly as her niece and her new nephew-in-law seemed to eat their meal in a world that only existed to the two of them.

After their wedding dinner, after many apologies to both Nettie and Ziva by the head of the household about having no Hanukkah practices handy, the group shared Christmas crackers and awful jokes, swapping so called 'horror stories' about holidays long past, but to Ziva, who had never once celebrated Christmas, they sounded like stories of family and of belonging, two of the senses she was slowly beginning to feel again. But there was one other tradition that Abby insisted that they honour.

"We have to do speeches," she told them all. "It's their wedding day, we have to do speeches. Right, Gibbs?" she smiled sweetly at him.

He looked up from his drink to notice the somewhat demonising glint in her eye that she tried to mask with a false innocence he had been able to see through for many years. "You're looking at me like you want me to go first," he noted.

Her grin simply grew. "Well, if you're offering…"

"I'm not," he said, but at those words, he couldn't help but notice Tony's expression fall for a moment.

"But it's how it's supposed to be!" Abby chimed. "Bride's father goes first, and Ziva's father's…well, he's a bastard, if you'll pardon my French, and so you have to do the bride's father speech."

"Nothing about today has been conventional," Gibbs pointed out, eying the newlywed couple further down the table. "And nothing about it should be. I think part of what makes me sure that these are going to make it is that they aren't conventional. They have to fight against more things than any other couple would ever have to imagine, and they still come through, brushing it off like it's another day. They don't need convention on their wedding day, Abs. Convention doesn't suit them, it's part of the magic."

Abby was gazing at him, her hands tucked under her chin as though he were reading a fairy tale. "Aw, Gibbs!" she quietly squealed afterwards. "That was the nicest speech ever!"

He laughed, and sipped at his drink. "It wasn't a speech, Abs."

Her eyes widened. "If that wasn't a speech, I can't wait to hear the actual speech."

"Boss, it's okay," Tony assured him from down the table. "You don't have to do a speech."

The decision had apparently been made silently, but was completely agreed upon mutually, judging from the way that Ziva had slipped her hand into the embrace of Tony's. The two of them exchanged a gentle smile after this, and none of them looking away from the display of such passion with such little effort.

"Yes, he does!" Abby frowned. "If you're not doing anything else conventionally, then you're going to do this."

"Abby, it is fine," Ziva smiled.

"No, it's not. We're all meant to sit around and say how glad we are to see you together and wish you luck for the future and talk about how amazing you are as a couple!"

"We can do that," McGee assured her.

"Yes, I agree with Timothy," Ducky nodded. "I am sure that Tony and Ziva are quite aware that we are pleased to see them together, and also that they work well as a couple. As for wishing them all the best, that is most certainly in order, although I do not believe it is necessary for us to stand around and attempting to destroy my fine crystal glasses with your cutlery to do so."

Abby tilted her head to one side, and then nodded. "I guess so."

"In fact, seeing as you have been their biggest supporter, so to speak, perhaps you should take the first speech," Ducky winked at her.

"No," Gibbs said, suddenly standing up with his glass in his hand. "I do have something that I want to say to them, actually."

Abby grinned, and the couple just looked at each other with a mixture of happiness and curiosity as Gibbs raised his glass to them momentarily.

"First of all, I would like to apologize to the both of you. If we'd realised that Ziva had been in trouble sooner, we could have saved you sooner, and you could have been together at the moment your son was born. Having said that, Ziva, you are a tremendous mother who would do anything for her son, and I think you're incredibly brave to risk what you did to come home to your family, where we would have always waited for you. I consider you both like my children, and to be a part of this day for you both is something I feel very lucky to have been a part of."

Tony and smiled at his new wife, and couldn't resist giving her a small kiss.

"Tony," Gibbs continued, attracting the younger man's attention. "In the past two days, you've become a husband and a father. You've done a good thing by stepping up, and while I still stand by rule twelve, I also stand by love and family. You'll be a wonderful father to your son, and you'll be an excellent husband, because we all know Ziva will destroy you if you're not."

They all snickered lightly, apart from Nettie, who just nodded knowingly.

"What I guess I'm trying to say," Gibbs nodded softly and extended his drink in their direction. "Is that I have never been more proud of the two of you than I am at this moment. You've fought through Hell and back to be together," he reminded them. "Don't forget that."

--------------

When no one other than Gibbs insisted on doing a speech, they sat at the table swapping their favourite stories about Tony and Ziva. Naturally, Abby had been bursting full of moments, McGee throwing in some of the awkward times that, had it not been their wedding day, one of the might have killed him for, followed by a few of the autopsy conversations contributed by Ducky. Gibbs said nothing, just watching the smiling faces on his team's faces.

He slipped out to the kitchen to refill his drink, and found that Ziva followed him. She stared at him for a moment, before rather uncharacteristically throwing her arms around him. He froze for a moment, but quickly recovered himself from the shock and enclosed his arms around her, placing his refilled cup on the kitchen counter.

"Thank you," she whispered to him. "Thank you for all you have done today."

"You don't have to thank me, Ziva," he told her, as she pulled back to look up at him. He hated how tiny she felt in his arms, how skinny and neglected she felt. It was no wonder DiNozzo kept loading up her plate at dinner. "We watch out for our own."

She shook her head slowly, looking rather emotional. "You do not understand…" she whispered. "Had I returned to Israel, my father would have had me killed. My son would not have been sent to his father for care then, as I would have wanted, but he would have been raised by nannies until such a time when my father could send him away to training schools. My father would have made an assassin out of him, as he did to me." She bit her lip, looking into the other room, where she could just see Tony lifting Shai out of the baby seat that Abby had bought them and into his arms, settling him on his knee. "I did not want that life for my son, and you have prevented that."

"You listen to me, Ziva," he instructed her, drawing her gaze back to his. "Your boy will not be an assassin, you hear me? You and Tony will raise him good, I know you will. I know you two haven't had the best childhoods, but that's what makes me sure that you'll be the best parents that boy could ever wish for."

She smiled, unshed tears filling her eyes. She wiped them away softly, only to notice that Gibbs was now looking into the other room as she had been.

"Although," he added with a hint of a smile. "You might be looking at a kid with a sugar addiction…"

She looked over, seeing that Tony had dipped his finger into some of the leftover chocolate dessert that Abby had made and held it out to the baby. Shai had managed to form some kind of death-grip on his father's hand as he eagerly sucked on Tony's finger to remove all traces of the chocolate sauce. "Tony is still a child at heart," she noted. "That is what will make him a wonderful father."

"Ziva," he said seriously, attracting her attention again. "Stop worrying." She looked curiously at him. "He's gone, Ziva."

Her face visibly relaxed. "He has left America?"

"Vance called me as we left City Hall. Once the marriage was confirmed he knew he couldn't make you leave. His plane leaves in about an hour."

She let out a huge sigh of relief, a true smile forming over her lips. "He is gone," she repeated over and over as Gibbs drew her back into his arms. "He is gone. He is gone!"

"It's over, Ziva," he assured her.

"It is over," she repeated. "We are free."

As she made her way back to the dinner table, Nettie pulled at her arm, drawing her close. "Mah she-baTuach?" she asked.

"Metzuyan, Dodah," Ziva smiled.

As she took her seat beside Tony once again, he frowned at her. "What's with the Hebrew?" he asked her.

"She asked how I was," she explained simply.

"And?" he questioned.

She gave him a gentle smile, placing her lips against his for a moment. "I said I was perfect."

_The End._


End file.
